Tribulations
by MildlyInsane
Summary: Tom Hanson and Doug Penhall do not exist. They are instead Tommy and Doug McQuaid, tough, seemingly fearless high school boys. The lives of the teenaged McQuaid brothers aren't easy. It's a rough existence, full of drugs, alcohol, and physical abuse. Day to day life consists of dealing with an abusive father, buying and selling drugs, and just trying to survive in a world so cruel.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter1

Tommy McQuaid groaned as his alarm clock screamed in his ears. Had he even set the thing? If he had, he didn't do it on purpose. Sure, he had school today, but he had been up late last night, drinking with his brother, and had been fully prepared to ditch school, or else show up late, as he and his brother often did. School was pretty much useless to them, besides the fact that it was someplace to go just to get away from home for a while. They didn't usually do assignments, never tried on tests... They had no hope of gaining anything there besides money from drug purchases and a safe place to hang out during the day.

He reached over to the side of the bed where his alarm clock was crushed between the mattress and the wall, groping around until he finally grasped it in his hand. Blindly, he slammed his other hand down on the clock, pressing whichever buttons his fingers happened to stumble against, and then threw the clock back down on his bed. He was back to sleep again in seconds.

But it seemed only another few seconds before the alarm clock was going off again, as he must have hit the snooze button instead of actually turning the clock off. The screeching sound seemed even louder this time. Tommy pressed some random buttons on the thing again and then tossed it back down on the mattress. He sometimes wondered why he even had an alarm clock. Pretty much any time he actually set it, he ended up turning it off instead of getting up when it went off.

Rolling over onto his side, Tommy sighed. He didn't fall asleep right away this time. He had been rudely awakened twice now and could feel a bit of a dull headache coming on from a mild hangover. He hadn't had _that _much to drink last night, just enough to get him a little drunk, not totally wasted. He hoped he could manage to fall asleep soon, because he was tired. So he just laid there on the bed, closing his eyes and trying to relax enough to fall asleep regardless of the annoying pain in his head and a tinge of nausea in his stomach.

When the alarm went off a third time, he made a sound that was a mixture of a growl and a soft scream. This time, he looked specifically for the off button, smashed it down harder than necessary, and then threw the alarm clock at the wall so that it made a loud cracking sound.

The second he did it, he regretted it. He could hear his father's footfalls stomping up the stairs almost immediately, and his booming voice didn't sound at all pleased, "what the hell are you doing up there?" he growled.

Tommy rolled over so that he was facing away from the door. He drew his blanket up so that it covered his whole body, and almost his entire head, and pretended to be asleep. Curling himself into a little ball and staying as still as he could possibly manage, he hugged the blanket tightly around himself and held his breath for what was to come.

"I said what the hell are you doing up here?" his father screamed again, opening the door with such force that it slammed loudly against the wall and bounced back so that he had to push it open a second time.

Tommy's heart was racing and he felt the familiar feeling of adrenalin coursing through him. His father yelling at him was not a foreign experience. He also knew feigning sleep wasn't going to save him from his father's anger for very much longer. Nevertheless, he kept still and hugged the blanket close. He really didn't want to deal with this right now.

"Damn it!" his father yelled as he crossed the room and pulled the blanket off his son, "what are you throwing around up here?"

Tom didn't even have to roll over. His dad's hands were on him in no time, grabbing his arms roughly and pulling him to his feet. But he wasn't on his feet for long. His father then shoved him roughly back down on the bed so that he was sitting, looking up at the man's looming presence, "nothing," he lied, glaring up at the man, "you must have been imagining it," he smirked, but he wasn't at all happy. The smirk was more of a sarcastic 'fuck you,' to his father than a symbol of his joy.

Wit was one of his only defenses against the man. If he couldn't physically defend himself, he could at least use words. It may not actually do any good. In fact it usually only made the man more angry... But at least it made him feel like he had at least some control. At least he wasn't just sitting there like a scared little child as his father yelled at him. Making his father angry was the next best thing to actually hitting him back.

"Don't talk back to me," his father ordered, raising his hand and smacking his son roughly across his cheek.

Feeling tears welling up in his eyes, Tommy raised his hand to his stinging cheek. But he didn't let the tears fall. He set his mouth in a tight line and stared up at his father, refusing to show him how much that had hurt, "don't ask me questions if you don't want me to answer them, _dad_," he said the last word in a tone that showed the man he wasn't using the word in the same sense the rest of the world did. This man was his father biologically, but was in no way a proper father figure.

As his father raised his hand up to strike him again, Tommy closed his eyes and brought his arms up so the blow would hit them instead of his face again. He knew he had no chance at overpowering the man, so the best he could do right now was to try anything at all that would make the strike hurt less.

When he didn't ever feel the expected pain, he opened his eyes and lowered his arms in time to see his brother Doug wrestling with their father. Doug hadn't even made the effort of trying to reason with the man. He knew it would do no good. The two of them hardly ever got into verbal arguments like Tommy and their father did. They just fought physically instead.

Doug was big enough that he could actually hurt their father back if he was lucky. He wasn't as strong as their dad, but he was at least a better match for the man than Tommy was.

Tommy quickly jumped up from the bed and rushed to his brother's aid. He might not have been as good at protecting Doug as Doug was at protecting him, but he certainly wasn't going to just sit back and let his fear prevent him from trying to help his big brother. If no one else was there for them, they would at least be there for each other.

Doug fell back roughly against the wall as his father's fist connected with his face. His nose was bleeding now, but he didn't even reach up to try to stop it. He just let the blood flow over his lips, down his chin, and onto his shirt as he continued struggling with the man.

Wasting no time at all, Tommy grabbed his father's thick arm, pulling him back so he couldn't strike Doug again. This only resulted in the man turning on him and punching him in the stomach so that he doubled over in pain. He felt his father's hands on him again, pulling him to his feet, but before he could deal any more damage, Tommy pushed him as hard as he could, "that all you got, Pops?" he growled, stumbling back from the force of his own arms shoving against the other body. His stomach hurt from where he had just been punched and he was still a little out of breath from it, but that wasn't going to stop him from continuing to fight.

"No," his father growled, back-handing him across the face, this time on the other cheek.

Doug was on him again in no time, pulling him away from his younger brother. He still hadn't uttered a single word.

Their father was used to beating his kids back, and was pretty good at it. Even the one man against the two boys wasn't a fair fight, and not in the way one might imagine. The man could easily take on the two teenagers by himself and still end up the least hurt of the three. The next thing Tommy knew, Doug was practically thrown at him. They both tumbled backward, landing on the crumpled heap of sheets and blankets on Tommy's bed.

"Get the fuck to school," their father growled. He then turned and made his way out of the door slamming it loudly behind him and then stomping back down the stairs.

Tommy looked over at his brother. He could tell Doug was absolutely livid. He felt the same way. Though these physical fights were nothing new to either of them, they still didn't enjoy them. Every time his father lashed out like this, it made Tommy angry. But he knew better than to act on his anger. So did Doug.

There was no reasoning with the man. And there was certainly no option of going after him and trying to resort to any sort of violence. They had learned long ago that it was best to leave the man alone whenever possible. Going after him with vengeance in their hearts would likely only cause them to get hurt even worse than they already were from whatever the man had dished out at them in the first place.

"Come on, man," Tommy squeezed his brother's arm, "I'd rather be at school than here. Let's just go," His stomach hurt where his father had hit him, and he felt like he might have bruises on each of his cheeks pretty soon. His body was even trembling slightly from all the adrenaline and fear. But he at least knew nothing was broken. This fight was nothing compared to some he'd had with his father in the past. He had sustained pretty serious injuries in the past. At least this time he knew nothing was broken.

"You okay?" Doug looked over at him, his eyes worried and his mouth set in a frown. He also had a large amount of blood running from his nose.

Tommy laughed, "that's a strange question coming from a guy with half his blood on the outside, running down his face."

His brother shrugged, "let's go," he pulled Tommy to his feet and grabbed a wad of toilet paper from the bathroom, pressing it up against his face. The two brothers then rushed out of that house as fast as they could. Luckily, their father was through with the 'conversation,' and they didn't have to fight him to get out of the house today.

Fortunately, Tommy had still been wearing his clothing from the day before, even his worn out sneakers, so he didn't have to bother getting dressed before rushing out of the house. Maybe his night of drinking and passing out on his bed still wearing his shoes was actually paying off now.

They were too late to catch the bus, so they were forced to walk to school. Not that Tommy minded. He didn't really want to get to school any faster than necessary, and he knew Doug could probably use a couple minutes to clean the blood off his face. He also knew they could use a few minutes to pull themselves together into their usual rough personalities. The last thing they needed was to show up to school looking like kicked puppies. They had a reputation to uphold. If the other kids weren't scared of them, they were doing something wrong.

"What did you do to set him off this time?" Doug wondered, looking down at his brother. He still held the toilet paper up to his nose, mopping up the blood as though it was no big deal at all, as if he was just performing a normal daily task, which, unfortunately, he was. A bloody nose from one of his dad's punches wasn't something he found unusual.

"Threw my alarm clock against the wall," Tom frowned, "I just didn't want to get up this morning. If I'd known he was going to freak out, I wouldn't 'a done it. I mean... obviously it wasn't a smart idea. I guess I just wasn't thinking. Besides, goin' to school is a hell of a better deal than getting the shit beat outta you and then having to go to school anyway."

His brother shrugged, "I'm sure he'd of found some reason to get mad anyway."

Tom nodded, "yeah. I guess. Your nose broken?" he asked, narrowing his eyes and squinting up at his brother's face, trying to see what damage had been done. He reached his hand up toward his brother, trying to move his larger hands out of the way so he could see his brother's injury and make sure it wasn't serious.

Doug swatted his little brother's hand away and shook his head, "nah," he assured him, "I'll be alright. I've had worse," Doug looked down at his brother again, "sorry I didn't get in there faster."

"It's not your fault," Tommy assured him, "how could you have known? It's my fault, for throwing my clock. What was I thinking? Making a loud noise like that early in the morning? I knew he'd get mad, but I was stupid and I did it anyway."

Doug turned toward him, putting his hands on Tommy's shoulders, "that's not your fault, Tommy. Maybe he had a right to be angry, but he didn't have a right to hit you."

Tommy frowned. He sighed and looked up at the sky. It was time to tuck this bit of their lives away for a few hours. Time to stop being the boys whose father beat them and start being the tough guys who bought and sold drugs. The guys who showed up to class late and made fun of the teachers right to their faces. The guys who other kids avoided at all costs unless they were looking to buy weed or coke, and who were scared to approach them even then.

He felt his brother's arm fall over his shoulders as they neared the school, "ready to do this, brother?" Doug asked. Tom could hear the smile in his brother's voice.

Tommy smirked, for real this time, "Yup!" he quickened his pace. School wasn't really so bad when he thought about it. At school, no one ever tried to mess with them. Maybe teachers, but all they did was talk. No one could hurt them there. And it was certainly better than being at home having to deal with their father. At least at school, instead of him being scared, everyone else was.

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Please drop me a review and tell me what you think of this first chapter. I've got the whole story written; I just need to proof-read and edit it, which I'm doing one chapter at a time. It's going to be pretty long eventually, so I hope you guys are into it. :)_**

**_Thank you for reading, and please come again.  
_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you to those of you who reviewed my previous chapter. :) Reviews really help me to know if I'm doing anything right or wrong in my writing, so please continue your support. I really appreciate it.**_

_**Here you go:**_

_**xxxxxx  
**_

Chapter2

Tommy dragged his feet as he practically stumbled into his first period class. All of the other students were already seated, as the class was fifteen minutes over by now. He and his brother had only just made it to the school, and were actually there earlier than usual. For them, it was being on time that was out of the ordinary. Unfortunately, since Doug was a junior and Tommy was a sophomore, they didn't have many classes together.

"Nice of you to join us, Mr. McQuaid," his teacher, Miss Smith mocked.

He refused to look at her. Instead, he just waved his hand, dismissing her remark as unimportant while he made a sarcastic face at his peers. A few of them laughed, but most just looked uncomfortable and nervous. He slumped down in his usual seat near the back of the room and stared up at the teacher who was still complaining.

"Do you have a note, Tommy?" she asked, "or is this another unexcused tardy?"

Tommy looked at her with raised eyebrows, "I got a doctor's note," he informed her as he felt a huge grin spreading across his face, "I'll get it to you in a couple minutes. Gotta get a signature first," he reached over and tore a sheet of paper out of the notebook sitting on the desk next to his and grabbed a pen out of the hand of the same boy who owned the notebook. In barely legible handwriting, he scrawled down on the paper, _'McQuaid was at the hospital. His absence is excused.' _He then slammed the paper down on the desk of the girl on the other side of him, "sign this for me, doctor?" he smirked.

She looked at him with shock and worry in her features. She then looked up at Miss Smith and then back at Tommy, who just smiled and nodded, silently telling her to go on and do as he'd asked. To Tommy's amusement and surprise, the girl actually moved her pencil over the paper and started to sign it.

"Don't bother, Kendra," Miss Smith frowned, walking over and snatching the note up off the girl's desk. She wadded the paper up into a ball, threw it in the trash, and continued her lesson, probably picking up from wherever she was when Tommy had interrupted her.

"Thanks anyway, Doc," Tommy smiled at the girl who looked quite embarrassed. He then scooted his chair back loudly, allowing it to run into the desk behind him until whoever was sitting there pulled it back out of his way. Tom then threw his feet up on his desk with a thud and yawned loudly. He zoned out while Miss Smith spoke.

The next thing he knew, people were moving around. The teacher must have asked them to get in groups for an assignment or something. He hadn't been listening.

"Um... Tommy," he heard someone saying his name. He turned and looked at the boy. Tommy frowned at him and raised his eyebrows as if the boy couldn't possibly have anything of value to say to him. Nervously, the boy continued speaking, "you're... um... in our group. Remember?"

Tommy McQuaid rolled his eyes. He got up and followed the rest of his group back to the corner of the room. Another boy sat in the seat completely in the corner already. Tommy wanted that seat, as it allowed him to see everyone in the room, even if they couldn't all see him. He didn't like having his back to the rest of the class, and did enjoy watching everyone else, so he decided he must have that corner seat.

All he had to do was make a gesture with his hand, demanding that the boy move out of his way. The boy forfeited the seat to him with no protest.

As two of the most devoted students in their group set to work on whatever the project was, Tommy just looked around. He wasn't interested in helping. Instead, he just watched what everyone else was doing. Some groups seemed excited about the assignment. Most just seemed confused or worried. He wondered what the project was. He didn't care enough about it to ask anyone though. It wasn't as though his grade was actually going to matter.

Most teachers passed him and his brother regardless of how badly they did on assignments, just so they wouldn't be in their class again the next year. For a teacher, having to deal with one of the McQuaids once was bad enough. And most of them even had the misfortune of having one brother in their class, only to pass him through and find the second brother on his or her list of students for the next year. Failing them meant seeing them again the next year, and that's not something they wanted to see happen.

He looked around his own group. There were five students in his group - himself, the two who were working on the project, a quiet girl who was doodling in her notebook, and a nervous-looking boy who was presently staring in Tommy's direction.

"What?" Tommy growled.

"I uh..." the boy looked down, "Um..."

Tommy raised his eyebrows and laughed. He didn't even have to do anything for these people to be terrified of him. It wasn't like he beat them up all the time. He only got into fights with people who were messing with him or his brother. Other than that, he was all talk. And yet this boy couldn't even find the courage to speak to him without stuttering and avoiding eye contact. Tommy wasn't even bigger than most of the other kids. They were probably more scared of Doug than Tommy. Knowing if they messed with Tommy that they were also messing with his big brother, they just made sure to stay away from both of them.

"I heard you, um..." the boy leaned closer, and was whispering now, "I heard you sell drugs," he looked at Tommy expectantly, waiting for him to confirm or deny this.

Tommy just stared at him. That was common knowledge. He wasn't going to waste his time answering a redundant statement like that.

"You um... got anything that isn't really hard?" the boy asked, "I mean. I want to try something, but I don't want to go nuts and hurt someone or get arrested or anything."

"Weed?" Tom asked, "that won't make you go nuts. You could still get arrested though. If you have any sort of illegal drugs, you can get arrested. Fucking idiot."

The boy frowned, "well, do you have anything that's legal?"

"I think what you're looking for is coke," Tommy grinned, "you know... the soda."

"What about just regular cigarettes?" the kid asked, "I can't get in too much trouble for that, right?"

"You won't get in any trouble for it if you just don't let yourself get caught," Tommy informed him. He looked over the boy's shoulder at their teacher who was looking at them suspiciously. She didn't come over though, and Tommy didn't really care if she did anyway. He'd been caught with cigarettes many times. Usually the teachers didn't even do anything about it.

"Okay..." the boy sounded hesitant, "how much do you charge for them?"

"For the whole carton?" Tommy replied, pulling his pack of cigarettes out of his pocket and opening it. There were two missing, but that wasn't relevant information, "Twenty."

"Dollars?" the boy sounded shocked, "what about if I just buy one?"

"One cigarette?" Tommy laughed, "five."

"Ugh," the boy groaned, "are you kidding me? You could get a whole carton for that!"

He put the carton back in his pocket and raised his eyebrow, "maybe you should just go down to the convenience store and buy 'em yourself then."

"Fine," he sighed, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and sifting through it. Tom could see the boy had a lot more money than just twenty dollars. It was just like those rich kids to be stingy. Seeing how much money the kid had made Tommy angry. Did his parents just throw money at him or what? He was pretty sure this boy didn't have a job. Tommy had to work pretty hard and do dangerous things to earn his money, so he felt bitter toward people who got it for free.

"Price has gone up," Tommy informed him, "inflation, you know? Thirty."

The boy looked angry, but Tommy narrowed his eyes at him and gave him a threatening stare. He loved how he didn't even have to say anything to scare people into doing whatever he wanted, "fine," the boy shoved a twenty and a ten at him and grabbed the cigarettes out of his hand.

"Enjoy," Tommy smiled as he looked over the boy's shoulder again in time to see Miss Smith on her way over to their table.

"Please tell me I did not just witness what I think I did..." she sighed tiredly as she gripped the back of the other boy's chair and glared down at Tommy.

"What exactly do you think you witnessed?" Tommy wondered, leaning back in his chair and narrowing his eyes at her.

"Did you just sell him cigarettes?" she asked, and then looked at the other boy, "Clark? Did you seriously just buy cigarettes off a classmate in the middle of my class?"

The other boy's shoulders slumped as he started to nod, turning himself in immediately, but Tommy wasn't going to confess. If she was going to act like she wasn't sure if she really saw it or not, he was going to pretend she didn't.

"Nope," Tommy disagreed with Clark, "I sold him a box of chalk. I think he's planning on vandalizing your chalk board. Told me he was gonna draw dicks all over it."

"I want you both out of my class right now," she looked furious. She even pointed her finger toward the door for effect, "go straight to the principal's office. Both of you. Now."

Clark stood up and made his way toward the door. Miss Smith called back to him, "you'll get in less trouble if you just tell the truth," she reminded him.

Tommy stood up next, pushing his chair back so that it hit the wall. He walked out of the room. As he reached the hall, he looked left and saw Clark walking down to the office as their teacher had ordered. Tommy shrugged and turned right. He didn't know where he was planning on going, but it sure as hell wasn't going to be the principal's office. If he wanted to listen to a big sweaty man yell at him, he'd just go home.

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Alright... This chapter was pretty short and not all that eventful... But not to worry; the chapters are going to get longer and things get pretty intense later on in the story... so please do stay tuned. If you like violence, drinking, and drugs, you're going to end up liking this... I hope. (and I mean, if you like READING about those things... If violence, drinking, and drugs are the things you're into in real life, you've probably got more exciting things to do than this, and you might be easily bored reading my fanfiction story when you've got all sorts of drugs to do...)  
_**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter3

Doug stood outside the doorway of his last class of the day, staring down the other students as they entered the room. This was the only class he had with Tommy, and somehow Doug had gotten here on time, but Tommy hadn't. Class was due to start in less than a minute, but the younger boy still wasn't there. He'd usually find his little brother somewhere around the school prior to class, but hadn't been successful today.

In fact, the younger McQuaid brother hadn't been there at lunch either... The kid didn't usually skip class if Doug wasn't doing the same. Doug actually found himself feeling a bit worried about what sort of trouble Tommy may have gotten himself into. Usually, if one of the brothers was going to skip school or if he had gotten in some sort of verbal dispute with a teacher and was told to report to the principal's office, he would find his brother before storming out of the building. Sticking together was what they did best. That, and scaring the hell out of their classmates.

Exhaling in frustration, Doug looked up and down the hallway, hoping he'd finally see his brother, but Tommy was nowhere in sight. He wondered where his brother could be...

"Class is starting in about thirty seconds," a man's voice called out to him. It didn't sound like his regular teacher, who was in fact an elderly woman.

Doug raised his eyebrow and turned around. The man in front of the class was definitely a teacher, but not the one he was used to. He certainly dressed to fit the role, with a button down shirt, tie, dress pants, and even nice shoes, "I'm waitin' for somebody," Doug called back. He frowned and narrowed his eyes at the man, silently telling him not to question his motives ever again. He didn't need this guy trying to tell him when class started. He knew when class started; he just didn't give a damn.

"Well, he or she's got fifteen seconds to meet you so you can both be in your seats before class starts," the man practically scowled at him.

Doug sighed. Their usual teachers were more used to the McQuaid brothers' antics by now. His ordinary teacher wouldn't have said anything to him at all if she saw him standing outside the door instead of sitting in his seat. She would have been astounded that he was anywhere near on time. And yet this guy expected him to be in his seat the second class was set to begin? He didn't want to get anything like that started... He hated it when some big-man substitute showed up thinking he or she could tell them what to do.

He didn't really feel like just standing there and letting this guy stare him down, so he took off immediately. He'd have to find Tommy, and then they could decide together if going to class would be worth it.

As he walked down the hallway, he saw a few more students, but the hall was mostly empty. Kids around here were way too scared of being late to class. They must not have realized how much it didn't matter. Doug reached out and grabbed a boy who was rushing past him and on to class, "you seen Tommy?" he asked, pushing the kid up against a locker.

The boy shook his head, "not today," he stammered, looking quite nervous, "I'm sorry..."

Doug let go of him and kept walking, "you seen my brother?" he asked a girl who was walking briskly by him.

She shrugged, "no," she told him and kept walking.

Doug frowned. Tommy wouldn't have gone home, not by himself. Their father was unemployed at the moment and thus spent almost all of his time there. They didn't hang out at their house if they didn't have to. He had to either be in school, or just hanging out around town waiting for school to end so he could meet back up with Doug.

"Tommy!" Doug yelled as he walked down the halls. If he couldn't find him any other way, he'd just call out to him until he found him that way, "Tommy McQuaid!" he yelled, banging on lockers as he walked.

By now the school's last class period had started. Doug was the only one in the hall, save for a few teachers who stuck their heads out and looked at him anxiously.

"What's going on out here?" one of the teachers asked.

"I'm looking for my brother," Doug told him, "was he in your class today?"

"He was absent. You should check with the office," the teacher suggested, "and then get to class."

Doug rolled his eyes.

"Tommy!" he yelled again as he started to walk away, slamming his fist into a few lockers, hard enough to make noise, but not so hard that it left a dent or hurt his hand, "Tomm-maaaay!"

"Douglas," the teacher called from behind him, "you need to stop yelling and banging on lockers. You're disrupting every class in this hall. Check with the main office; ask them if your brother was in any of his classes. If he wasn't in mine, he's probably skipping, which means he's probably not in the school. Yelling his name isn't going to help you find him."

Doug sighed loudly and turned back around, going back toward his last period classroom. He'd check there one more time, then the office, and then he'd check outside the school. He knew of a few places his brother liked to hang out. He had to be somewhere.

Swinging open the door to his class, he was greeted by the agitated stare of the substitute teacher who had been nagging at him earlier. Doug didn't even bother speaking to him. He just peeked his head into the room, scanned the desks for his brother and then turned to leave.

"Are you Alex, Doug, or Tommy?" the teacher asked him as he was about to leave.

Doug turned around and narrowed his eyes, "what does it matter?"

The sub held up an attendance slip, "I need to know who to mark absent and who to mark tardy. Will you be joining us for class today? Or are you going to just roam the halls all period? If you aren't staying anyway, I'll just mark all three boys' names down as absent."

"You aren't going to ask me where I'm going?" Doug wondered, "don't you have some sort of responsibility to make sure your students don't just leave or somethin?"

"You're what, seventeen? Eighteen years old? I'm sure you can make these decisions for yourself," the teacher answered.

Doug nodded, "yeah. You're right," he agreed. Maybe this guy wasn't too bad after all. At least he wasn't arguing with him like half of the other teachers did. And he didn't seem scared of him like the other half. This guy acknowledged that Doug wasn't following the rules and didn't seem to give a damn, and that was pretty cool. Doug continued, "No. I'm not staying. I've got to find my brother. See ya," he turned and left, making his way to the main office next.

"Has Tommy been in any of his classes today?" he asked as soon as he entered the room. He didn't have to specify a last name. The secretaries knew him and his brother well.

"There was an incident earlier today," one of the secretaries told him, "he was caught selling cigarettes to another student, but he didn't report here like his teacher asked. Some students claim to have seen him leaving school grounds. Your father's been notified."

"Ugh," he groaned, "my dad didn't come here did he?"

"No," the secretary informed him, "not that I know of. But don't worry. I'm sure your brother's fine. He probably went home."

Doug sighed, "I doubt it," he muttered under his breath as he made his way out of the office and then proceeded to leave the school entirely.

It was relatively warm outside, so it seemed reasonable to assume Tommy could be either inside or outside. There were several places Doug thought he might be, so he set to work checking those places out, one at a time. He first checked a few restaurants his brother was a fan of and a few shops he knew Tommy enjoyed shoplifting from. When he didn't find Tommy in those places, he walked around the park.

It wasn't long before he found his little brother lying on a park bench. Doug walked up to the younger boy and looked down at him. He was lying on his back with his arms crossed over his forehead, probably trying to shield his eyes from the sun. He looked quite peaceful, despite how uncomfortable the bench probably was. Doug bent down a bit so he could see his brother's eyes. They were closed. He was also breathing very steadily. Doug was certain Tommy was asleep.

Since his brother wouldn't see him doing so, Doug took the liberty of looking him over. If Tommy was hurt from their scuffle that morning with their father, he probably wouldn't have said anything. He had hidden injuries from Doug before. Tommy had an obvious bruise on his right cheek, and a much lighter one on the left. Neither looked too painful. Still, Doug frowned. He hated that man. He wished he could get himself and his brother out of there, but what was he supposed to do? It's not like someone would be wanting to adopt kids like them - fifteen and seventeen years old, trouble-making, thieving, lying, drug-dealing screw ups.

If they told anyone how their father treated them, there were two possibilities of what it might accomplish: 1. no one would believe them; their father would be even more angry that they tried to get him in trouble; they would end up in even worse shape than they already were. Or 2. they would be sent to some home for misfit kids or to a foster home, where they'd probably be in the company of people even worse than their father. Maybe they'd even separate the brothers. Someone might be willing to deal with Tommy since he was younger, but no one was going to put up with Doug, a boy who was almost an adult. There wasn't really anything they could do about their situation right now. They were doomed until Doug was eighteen, and he had only just turned seventeen, so they still had to wait almost a full year.

Looking down at his brother's sleeping form, Doug remembered that their father had hit Tommy in the stomach too. Frowning, he reached out slowly to lift his brother's shirt - to see if it looked like he was hurt badly enough for Doug to be worried about him.

But Tommy wasn't a heavy sleeper. Over the years, he had learned to sleep lightly. He was sitting up in no time, "what the fuck?" he yelled out, pulling his shirt back down and raising his hands, ready to fend off whoever dared to get so close to him. But when he saw Doug he let out a relieved sigh, "Oh... It's you," he lost all the tension in his body immediately, "what the hell were you doing?" he wondered, narrowing his eyes up at his brother.

"Lookin' at your stomach," Doug answered, "Dad hit you pretty hard. I just didn't know if I should be worried about you or not."

"I'm fine," Tommy assured him, "what time is it?"

Shrugging his shoulders, Doug responded, "Don't know. Probably around two-thirty," Raising his eyebrows, he added, "I hear you got caught selling cigarettes. The lady in the office said they phoned Dad."

Tommy's shoulders slumped visibly. His eyes were wide and he looked nervous, like someone might look if they were just told that they had to get dangerous surgery performed on them, "I don't want to go home tonight," he confessed.

"Then we won't," Doug smirked, pushing his brother's arm playfully.

"Where are we gonna go then?" Tommy wondered, pushing his brother back even harder.

Doug ignored the question for now. Instead, he pushed his little brother again, almost knocking him off the bench completely.

Tommy's eyes looked determined now, and his smile was increasing in size. Whenever the two of them got into their little play fights, sometimes it got out of control pretty quickly. The next thing Doug knew, Tommy had tackled him to the ground. He was sitting on top of Doug and was grasping at his arms, trying to hold him down.

But Doug didn't let his brother have the upper hand for long. He rolled over so that Tommy was on his back with his older brother straddling him, holding his arms down instead of the other way around. Doug was stronger than Tommy, "what now, little brother?" he laughed, knowing his brother didn't have a chance at overpowering him.

Tommy didn't look as excited now. In fact, he looked quite frustrated. He tried to pull his hands free for a few moments, but didn't spend too much time trying to complete the impossible task, "Get off," he grumbled.

Doug stood up and offered his hand to his brother. He pulled Tommy up to his feet as well. They both frowned at each other, but their unease didn't stem from any animosity either felt for each other over their little scuffle; they were over that already. In reality, they felt uneasy because they were both wondering where they were going to sleep tonight.

Sometimes Doug wished they had friends at school. Having everyone fear them was great of course. It was very useful most of the time. But whenever they were stranded, scared to go home, or not scared, but just dreading it, it would have been nice to have some sort of friend to stay with. They didn't have the kind of money for a hotel room, so on nights when they couldn't bring themselves to go home, they always had to resort to pretty uncomfortable sleeping arrangements.

"We can spend most of the night in the bar again," Doug offered, "we won't be so picky about where to sleep after we've had a few drinks."

Tommy's eyes widened, "but we won't go home, right?" he worried.

"Nah," Doug assured him, "we'll probably sleep in a gutter somewhere. Or in a ditch, or an alley... Wherever there's space. But if we're wasted enough, we won't care. See what I mean?" he smiled.

Tommy smiled as well, "yeah," he laughed.

"We're lucky the guys at Marty's don't give a shit that our IDs are fake," Doug added.

"Maybe they think they're real," Tommy shrugged.

Doug raised his eyebrows and looked down at his little brother, "do _you_ think you look twenty one, Tommy?" he asked.

Tommy shrugged again, "I dunno. Maybe."

Doug shook his head, "you don't."

"Well neither do you!" Tommy frowned.

"I do too!" Doug disagreed, "more than you at least."

"Please," Tommy scoffed, "you look nineteen at the most, and that's being generous. You look like a really young looking nineteen year old."

"And you look twelve," Doug smirked, nudging his little brother playfully with his elbow, "you'd need an ID just to get into a PG13 rated movie."

Tommy didn't argue anymore. Instead he just pushed his brother backward with both of his hands and started walking away. He didn't like when Doug made fun of him and Doug was very aware of it. Tommy indeed looked young for his age, and was rather sensitive about that fact. He didn't actually look twelve. Doug had been exaggerating. In fact, he would probably guess the boy was fourteen if he didn't know him, and that was only one year less than his actual age.

"Aw," Doug laughed, "come on, man..." he didn't know where his brother was going, but he followed him anyway, "I was just messin' with ya. You don't really look twelve."

"I know," Tommy grumbled, but he kept walking, refusing to look back at his big brother.

"You probably look at least thirteen," Doug laughed.

Tommy scoffed, "maybe when we're thirty, I'll look twenty five, and you'll look forty. We'll see who's laughing then."

"I'm never going to be thirty," Doug scoffed back.

"We're going to go get lunch," Tommy informed him, switching the subject in an instant, "I don't care if you've already eaten. I haven't since yesterday at noon. I'm starving."

Doug followed him still. That seemed fair enough. But he hoped his brother had some money, because he sure as hell didn't.

_**xxxxxx**_

_**Thank you for your continued interest in my story. Please drop me a review to let me know what you think. It can even be anonymous if you're embarrassed to be reading it and don't want anyone to know that you reviewed it. I love all reviews... (unless they are mean trolls, but I don't think I've actually ever gotten any of those...)  
**_


	4. Chapter 4

_**Thank you to all of my readers and reviewers thus far. :) Here's your next chapter. Please do enjoy:**_

_**xxxxxx  
**_

Chapter4

Doug sat across the table from his younger brother, who was already sipping on his second beer. He was so surprised anyone would agree to serve the kid beer, even with an ID. They were both quite obviously underage, but Tommy was even more obviously a teenager than Doug was. He wasn't going to complain though. They might have been underage, but Doug felt like they kind of deserved a couple beers for having to put up with so much shit on a daily basis.

They were lucky Tommy had sold those cigarettes to that kid in his class, or else they wouldn't have been able to afford to buy drinks at all. Doug had run out of money yesterday and Tommy hadn't had much prior to his cigarette sale. The two of them didn't really think of their money as separate stashes. Doug didn't have his own money, and Tommy didn't have his own. Any money either of them stole, or made off selling drugs belonged to both of them. They both made roughly the same amount of money over all, and it was too much trouble to try to keep it separate. They were each always borrowing money from the other anyway. Keeping tabs on who owed what to the other would take up much more time than it would be worth.

Furthermore, they had enough to worry about with the rest of the world acting so cold and distant without them treating each other the same way. They were brothers. They only had each other. They could let the rest of the world be greedy self-serving jerks... Tommy and Doug were a pair. If Doug needed money, and Tommy had some, he didn't hesitate to hand it over, and the reverse was the same way.

"How much did you sell those cigarettes for anyway?" Doug asked his brother.

Tommy laughed, "thirty dollars."

"Woah!" Doug was quite surprised, "who was dumb enough to pay thirty dollars? They're just regular cigarettes..."

"Clark Bennett," Tommy answered, "it was funny too," he shook his head slightly back and forth and laughed as if recalling the memory of the sale, "he said he wanted to buy something he couldn't get in much trouble for. But he was dumb enough to do it right during class. I knew Miss Smith would probably see us. I didn't count on them calling dad..." Tommy frowned.

"Well, at least you got thirty dollars out of it. Maybe dad will forgive you if you buy him more cigarettes," Doug frowned and shrugged, looking over at his brother.

"Do you really think so?" Tommy wondered, "because I don't. He'd probably be even more mad."

"I know. I was just joking. Don't do him any favors," Doug instructed, "it won't be worth it."

Tommy took out his wallet and shuffled around the money in it, "we got enough money for two more drinks each," Tommy informed his brother, "and maybe one last one we can split, if you want."

Doug nodded. He'd only had two drinks so far as well. Four and a half drinks each probably wasn't going to be enough to make them content with sleeping outside on the sidewalk. His brother must have agreed, because he was frowning.

"I've got some weed I could try to sell someone," Tommy offered, "it'll probably get us at least two more drinks each."

"Okay," Doug agreed, "we'll go around and see if anyone's interested."

They walked around the bar separately, asking their usual customers if they wanted in on this deal. But none of them did. Doug hated it when this happened. Asking new people if they were interested didn't always go over well.

So many things could go wrong in trying to sell drugs to complete strangers. They could be anyone... cops, or people who would call the police on them... Or they could be violent. When people knew you had drugs on you, sometimes they assumed you might have a lot, and maybe money too, so they would see you as a good target for robbery. And it was even more dangerous for Tommy and Doug due to the fact that they were teenagers trying to live in an adult world. Doug knew there were shady people in the world, people who were just waiting to find someone to take advantage of, and who better than a few young kids trying to sell drugs in a bar?

After having no success with their usual customers, Tommy and Doug met back up with each other. When they were asking new people if they wanted to buy drugs, they liked to stick together. Together, they were only half as vulnerable as they were apart. People were much less likely to mess with a pair than with an individual.

Doug looked around the bar, trying to find a good candidate for the sale. On one side of the bar was a group of people who looked to be in their forties or fifties. They probably wouldn't have much luck there. There were a couple of tough-looking guys at the counter. They looked like they could be in some sort of motorcycle gang. Doug kept looking.

"What about them?" Tommy suggested, nudging Doug's shoulder and nodding toward a couple tables filled with younger people.

Doug nodded, "come on," he instructed, walking toward the group of young adults. He tried to look as casual as possible, but couldn't help but to feel a little nervous. He was never sure how people would respond to being asked if they wanted to buy drugs, but in order to make the sale, he had to take risks.

"Hey," Doug leaned against a table where a few young men and a young woman sat. He didn't usually try to sell drugs to complete strangers at bars, so he wasn't that smooth at getting the conversation going.

For a moment, they all just stared at him. They seemed confused, "hey," one of the guys forced a smile, "what's up?"

Doug was just about to continue with his attempt to make the sale when his brother stepped up beside him and put his hand up on Doug's shoudler. Standing next to his older brother, Tommy joined in as best as he knew how, "you guys into anything other than alcohol?" he asked.

Doug closed his eyes and exhaled. Tommy was even worse at this than he was.

"Are you guys trying to sell us drugs?" the woman asked as she smiled widely. She looked like she was probably in university. All of the people at the table did. If anyone was going to buy from them, it would probably be someone at this table. And it was highly likely that they were too young to be cops, so that was another positive aspect about these people.

"Why do you want to know?" Doug asked her, "would you be interested in something like that?"

"Not from you," one of the men scoffed, "how old are you guys, ten?"

Doug rolled his eyes, "I'll give you a discount," he said to the girl. She was the only one who seemed the least bit interested, so he ignored the men and focused on her.

"We said no," the guy said, shoving him back lightly, "why don't you kids get back to the arcade and try to sell your candy there."

"Hey!" Tommy was in between his brother and the university-aged man instantly. Tommy pushed the man back, hard. Doug could see his brother was fully prepared to get into a fist fight over this. The younger of the McQuaid brothers placed himself right in front of the college-aged kid, staring right into his eyes. Doug was fairly certain Tommy would be willing to fight this guy right here, right now. But Doug wasn't prepared to let his brother do that.

"Forget it," Doug gave up, grabbing Tommy and pulling him backward away from the man before he could get himself into trouble.

The other guy still seemed angry and looked like he might just come after Tommy even after Doug pulled him away, but the second guy at their table calmed him down, "come on, man. He's just a kid," he said, putting his hand on the other man's shoulder. Doug wondered if they were brothers too.

With his arm now around Tommy's shoulder's, Doug looked down at him. He could tell his brother was angry, "you gotta learn how to pick your battles, little brother," Doug laughed, "you can't just get in a fist fight every time someone's a jerk."

Tommy glared up at him, "he pushed you," he frowned, "and you didn't even provoke him. I think that's reason enough for me to punch him. He started it."

Doug laughed, "he barely touched me, Tommy," he squeezed Tom's shoulders with his arm, "Plus, they're bigger and older than us, and with the girl, there were three of them, and only two of us. It just wasn't a good idea to get into it with 'em, you know? Besides, you shoved him back, harder than he pushed me. In my eyes, you won that fight."

Tommy smiled, "I guess I did, didn't I?"

Doug nodded and mimicked his little brother's expression. He loved seeing his brother smile.

"Boys!" Doug heard the familiar sound of Marty's voice. Marty owned the bar, and for some reason, he didn't mind letting Tommy and Doug hang out there, even though he had to know they were underage. None of them ever actually came out and said the two brothers were underage, but it was just an understood fact. Marty would be an idiot if he thought the boys were old enough to drink. Especially since he'd been serving them alcohol for the past year. If anyone looked further from twenty one than a fifteen year old Tommy, it was fourteen year old Tommy.

Doug half-dragged his brother over to the bar, "yeah?" he asked, putting on his best smile for Marty. He knew the man had a soft spot for them. He was the closest thing to a father-figure Doug had ever known. Of course, letting the young boys drink alcohol while underage didn't make him father-figure of the year, but he at least seemed to care about them, if only just slightly.

"What are you two up to?" he asked, looking at them with a scrutinizing eye.

"Just trying to scrounge up some money for a few more drinks," Tommy told him.

Marty narrowed his eyes and looked back and forth from Doug to Tommy for a few seconds, "tell you what," he started, "if you guys promise to go home after this, I'll give you each a pint on the house. It's getting late, and you and I both know you shouldn't be drinking that much, or staying out this late. Remember," he added, "there are a lot of creeps out there."

"Deal," Doug smirked as he reached out and shook the man's hand. He and Tommy both knew they weren't really going to go home after this. They'd be safer on the streets. But Marty didn't know that.

"Don't you boys have school tomorrow?" Marty asked as he poured the drinks.

"Yeah," Tommy answered, "but we don't have to go if we don't want to. We probably will anyway though."

"You going to go to school with a hangover?" Marty asked.

Tommy shrugged, "what does it matter? I can sleep during class. I do it all the time anyway."

Marty shook his head and sighed, "try to be careful out in the world," he advised, "there's nothing wrong with breaking a few rules now and then, but when you go too far, it's easy to get into real trouble," he handed them the two beers, "you got a ride home?"

Doug shook his head, "we're walking."

"Well, be careful," Marty repeated himself, "make sure you stick together."

Doug nodded. He didn't tell Marty that they probably wouldn't be walking far, that they weren't going home at all. He knew the man meant well, but his words didn't really mean much to Doug. There was only so much they could do to be careful. No matter how careful they were, the brothers were still going to end up spending the night in a nearby alley or ditch. There wasn't really a careful way to do that.

They snatched up the two beers and walked back to their table. They took their time with these ones, knowing they'd have to spend the rest of the night outside as soon as they finished the drinks. Doug and Tom didn't often have much luck with their fake ID's at other bars around town. Doug could probably get away with it, but if Tommy wanted to buy alcohol, they'd have to go here, or somewhere with bartenders who were either idiots or who did not give a fuck about who they served alcohol to.

"We'll go to that gas station near the bridge after this," Doug explained to this younger sibling, "if I go in alone, I can probably get away with buying a couple six-packs. We can hang out under the bridge - the water should be down since it hasn't rained in a while."

Tommy nodded, sipping at his beer, "sounds great," he smiled, but his smile looked a little forced.

"We've got enough money for two, right?" Doug asked, "I guess I could just get one if I need to. We could get a cheap bottle of wine instead of the second."

"I think we have enough," Tommy told him.

Doug sipped his beer and looked over at Tommy. He was sipping his as well. His eyes were staring past Doug's shoulder, but he didn't appear to actually be seeing anything. He was apparently deep in thought or zoned out completely. Doug wondered what he was thinking about. Was he worried? Or was he really just zoned out? Maybe he was thinking about something completely irrelevant to their situation.

"You okay?" Doug asked.

Tommy still stared ahead as he sipped the beer slowly.

"Yo! Tommy!" Doug said louder.

Tommy blinked a few times and then turned his head a bit so that he was facing Doug, "what?" he asked, looking a bit confused, "you say something?"

"You alright?" Doug asked, "you seemed kinda spaced out. You worried?" he asked.

Tommy shrugged, "nah. We'll be okay."

Doug nodded, "yeah. We will be," he agreed. He would personally make sure of it.

_**xxxxxx**_

_**Seriously... The chapters get longer and better later in the story. At the beginning here, I was still trying to get a grasp on the story. I think the second half of this is a lot better than the first... So even if this first part isn't perfect, please be patient and give me a change to redeem myself later on... I think I have 16 chapters total, and the first ones aren't as great as the later ones... I suppose these first ones are just trying to give you a sense of what the McQuaid brothers do on normal days. So while they aren't as interesting and eventful, they give you a bit of background info... I swear the story gets better... Don't give up on me yet.  
**_

_**Also, I'm not sure how much beers cost at bars, because I never buy them. I don't like beer... I also don't usually drink at bars in the united states, so I was putting them at about $4 or $5 each. I intentionally included that Tommy had some money before the $30 from the cigarettes, without saying how much, because I don't know beer prices - especially not 1980's beer prices... So please don't get hung up on any of those possible inconsistencies. :)  
**_


	5. Chapter 5

**_Thank you to all who have been reviewing or even just reading. I hope you're enjoying the story. Here's the next chapter. I hope you like it:_**

**_xxxxxx  
_**

Chapter5

Doug had gone into the gas station alone as planned, and had easily used his fake ID to buy the goods: twelve cold, delicious beers. The money Tommy had given him had been just enough to get two six packs of one of the cheaper brands. As he walked out of the gas station, he looked over to where his brother was standing in the nearby alley. Doug raised up his arms, bringing his purchase into view to show his brother that he had been successful. Tommy smiled.

"Let's get away from the main streets before we get arrested," Tommy suggested as he took one of the six packs from his brother so that Doug didn't have to carry them both.

Doug nodded and followed his brother as he started off toward the bridge.

When they made it to the bridge and climbed down below it, they saw that a homeless man had already set up camp there. They knew this man. Not his name, but they'd seen him and talked to him before. This wasn't their first time sleeping under this bridge, and it wasn't the homeless man's first time sleeping there either. So seeing him there was no surprise, and neither of the brothers really minded his company.

"What brings you kids down here tonight?" the man asked, stumbling toward them. He was smiling even though he looked pretty dirty and scuffed up, "trouble at home? Just bored?"

Tommy shrugged while Doug ignored the question completely.

"You boys got any money? I could use a little bit," the man asked, adding a nervous laugh after his question.

Doug handed him a beer instead, "We're low on money too. That's why we're here and not at a hotel or mansion... Cheap beer," he offered, "that's all we have to offer tonight, buddy," he clapped the man on his shoulder as he gave him the drink.

The homeless man shrugged, "good enough," he grinned, showing all his teeth as well as a few spaces where teeth should have been but weren't. Doug never asked this man where he was from or what he had been through for him to end up living as a beggar. The guy always looked so desperate and worn out. Doug wasn't sure he wanted to know how the man had gotten that way, so he didn't ask.

The man always seemed so down on his luck whenever Tommy and Doug ran into him, so they tried to be nice. And if giving him a couple beers would brighten his day, Doug wasn't opposed to it. Twelve beers between two boys who had each already had three full sized pints was more than enough for them to be able to afford to give a couple away.

The night seemed to go by fast. Apparently the three drinks the brothers had each consumed at the bar had given them a pretty good head start to help allow them to each drink several more without even realizing how drunk they were becoming. Before they knew what hit them, they were both drunk enough to be content sleeping wherever they happened to pass out.

...

Tommy remembered getting to the bridge and chatting with Doug and the homeless man as the three of them drank. But didn't remember much of the rest of the night. He recalled drinking at least four of the beers he and Doug had bought and he remembered getting into a minor fight with the homeless man. He wasn't sure what the fight was about or whether or not they were seriously trying to hurt each other or were just messing around. But he did remember scuffling with the man.

When he woke up, he was lying on his stomach with his leg up to his knee in the shallow, barely flowing river. Fortunately, it wasn't too cold outside. Hopefully lying half-way in the water wouldn't result in him getting sick in the near future.

He groaned and pushed himself up off the ground, pressing his fingers up against his throbbing head. He looked around. The homeless man had gone. All that remained on the ground were twelve glass bottles - some of them broken - and melted wax from the candles the man had already had lit when Tommy and Doug had gotten there.

Tommy felt around his pants pockets for his wallet. It was gone. So was the small bag of marijuana he had been trying to sell the night before. Sighing, he closed his eyes. For a moment he considered lying back down and trying to go back to sleep, but he knew it wasn't a good idea. He was nowhere near ready to face the day, but he knew that sleeping under a bridge in broad daylight was a good way to get the police called on you.

As he walked up the gradual slope of land between the river and the structure of the bridge, he groaned. His whole body ached, probably from a mixture of sleeping on the rocky ground / in the river and from fighting with the homeless man. Had the guy taken the wallet and the drugs from him once he was already asleep? Or had they actually fought over it? He wasn't sure. Their fight may have been about something else. Or maybe they were just joking around at the time. He thought he remembered being angry, but he wasn't really entirely sure. The guy could have actually robbed him while he was fully conscious. He supposed he'd never know, unless Doug remembered something about it, but he didn't have much confidence in that possibility.

His arms hurt. Rolling up his sleeves, he saw his arms were scraped and bruised. That didn't mean the homeless man had created those injuries though. He could have easily just fallen down one too many times. After all, there were a lot of rocks down under the bridge, and somehow he had ended up down at the bottom of the slope. Maybe he had fallen down there and just ended up falling asleep where he had happened to land. He wished he could remember what had happened.

He soon saw Doug leaning against the bridge. His body was at a somewhat awkward angle and he appeared to be sleeping. Tommy walked up to him and observed him. He had a new bruise under his eye and a scratch in the middle of the bruise. A small amount of dried blood accompanied the scratch.

Tommy frowned. He was no expert, but Tommy thought Doug's injury looked to be the result of a harsh punch to the eye. Had the homeless guy fought with Doug as well? They weren't going to be this nice to him when they saw him next. They gave him free beer and this is how he repaid them?

"Doug," Tommy whispered, reaching out and shaking his brother's shoulder. As much as he didn't want to force his brother to wake up only to face the same hangover and confusion Tommy felt, he knew they should get out of there sooner rather than later. They could find a public bathroom and clean themselves up a bit and then head off to school in time to catch most of their classes.

"Ugh," the older McQuaid brother groaned, bringing his hands up to his head much the same as Tommy had a few minutes before, "what the hell happened?"

Tommy shrugged, "beats me."

"What?" Doug looked at him with confusion in his eyes.

"I don't know, Doug," Tommy rephrased, "the homeless guy took my wallet," he frowned, "and my weed. I guess I'm lucky I didn't have much cash on me. Didn't lose too much."

Doug shook his head, "damn it," he groaned, pulling himself into a sitting position as he continued to rub his forehead with his fingers, "I should have known better than to trust that guy..."

"You okay?" Tommy asked his older brother, "you look like someone punched you... Well... someone probably did... Does it hurt?" he reached out and touched his brother's cheek lightly.

Wincing, Doug flinched back, "Ow... yeah," he answered, raising his own hand up and swatting away Tommy's. He poked at his own face for a few seconds and then looked up at Tommy who was bent over but still standing taller than Doug, since Doug was still sitting, "what about you? You alright?"

Tommy shrugged, "I guess so. I feel like I'm hung over, which I am," he laughed, "and I feel like I slept on a bunch of rocks... which I did. And I feel like I slept at least part of the night with my foot in the river, which... what do you know about that? I did..."

"That's not what I mean," Doug frowned, "did the homeless guy hurt you? How'd he manage to rob you?"

"I don't remember," Tommy looked down, "I think I remember arguing with him and scuffling with him over something last night, but I'm not sure if that's what it was. He might have taken the stuff from me while I was asleep. I have no idea."

"You're not hurt then?" Doug asked, looking Tommy over as best as he could from his seated position.

"Not really," Tommy answered, "I feel like hell, but I was down there lying halfway on those rocks and halfway in the water, so that's to be expected. I'm okay. Nothing important's damaged anyway."

"Good," Doug smiled, reaching up his hand.

Tommy grabbed Doug's hand in his own and pulled him up to his feet so that he was now standing taller than his little brother.

"Do you think Dad's over it by now?" Tommy asked. He hated having to sleep on the ground or on park benches. Even though he was more likely to be beaten if he was at home, at least his bed was relatively comfortable. Besides, he probably would have been in better shape now if he had just gone home yesterday. When he refused to go home yesterday, he hadn't counted on the possibility of getting beaten up by some homeless man. They had gone through so much trouble to avoid injury only to have it happen anyway... But at least they didn't remember it actually happening. At least there was no fear. It all happened without them even knowing what was going on. Much less stressful this way.

"Dad's never over anything," Doug sounded angry, "but we gotta go home some time. Maybe we can sneak in tonight just to sleep. We'll be quiet and he might not even know we're there."

Sighing, Tommy frowned, "are you ready to go to school?"

"Yup," Doug put his arm over Tommy's shoulders. I think it's about lunch time already. So we'll just kick everyone out of the bathroom, take sink showers, convince the lunch ladies to give us some free food and then decide where to go from there."

"Maybe we should use the showers in the locker room," Tommy suggested.

"Only if no one else is down there," Doug added.

"Of course," Tommy agreed.

They were both covered in scrapes and bruises, which wasn't something either wanted their classmates to see. There was a reason they wore long-sleeved shirts as often as possible. Of course, they didn't mind looking a little beat up from time to time, just to show people that they weren't afraid to get into fights, but they didn't want rumors to start circulating about them being abused. It would be a true rumor, but they didn't want people talking about it.

...

"Make sure you wash your face," Tommy suggested to his brother as he looked over at him. They were standing in the showers, trying to get themselves cleaned up as quickly as possible in order to avoid running into any other students, "there's blood on your cheek."

"Does it look really bad?" Doug asked, turning toward him. They hadn't had a chance to see themselves in a mirror yet. Doug was likely worried that he might look like he had been in a really violent fight. Neither of the brothers liked people staring at them, and huge bloody injuries had a tendency to grab more attention than the boys wanted.

Tommy shrugged, "It doesn't look too bad," he looked down at his own arms, "I look like a fuckin' meth addict or something though. I don't know if my arms have ever been this bruised and scraped up."

Doug looked at him and frowned, "they do look pretty bad. You don't remember what happened at all last night?"

Tommy shrugged and shook his head.

"Looks like whatever fight you got into was pretty violent," Doug frowned, "when I see that guy again, I'm punching him right in the face. No questions asked."

Tommy laughed, "what if I was trying to kill you or something and he fought me off... Don't you want to hear his side of the story? You never know... Maybe he saved you from my wrath... Or maybe he saved me from walking off into the water and drowning or something."

Doug turned so that he was under the shower head, "no," he disagreed as he rinsed the soap out of his hair and kept taking, "I don't need to hear his reason. Even if he was saving you from a shark, I don't care. He robbed you, remember? There's no possible excuse he could give that would be worth a damn. When I see him next, I'm punching him."

Tommy laughed as he turned off his shower and ran his hands through his hair. He reached over and grabbed a towel, drying his face and hair and then wrapping the towel around his waist, "I guess I can't argue with that," he smiled, grabbing a second towel and tossing it to Doug after he had turned off the other shower, "let's hurry up and get out of here," he suggested.

The brothers had gotten in and out of the shower room rather quickly, while class was still in session. They got out of there before all the other students made their way into the locker room. Tommy hadn't showered for two days, so even with the school's cheap hand-soap as shampoo, he felt so much cleaner now.

Doug had been right about what time it was. Their next period was lunch. Tommy didn't know how they had managed to sleep until nearly eleven o'clock. Sure, they had been up late and had been drunk, but that was pretty late to sleep under a bridge, in public, on an uncomfortable surface covered in rocks. They must have been really tired. Or really drunk. Or both.

Once in the cafeteria, Doug and Tom cut in line so that they were at the front, despite a few groans and complaints from the people who were now behind them.

"Hey, Linda!" Doug smiled at the chubby woman wearing an apron and a hair net, "you got anything on discount today. Say... for free?"

She raised her eyebrows, "have you boys not got any money?" she frowned as she looked them both up and down, "you've been wearing that for three days, Doug," she looked and sounded disappointed.

"Maybe I'll feel inspired to change my clothing now and then if I get a free lunch," Doug leaned closer to her and raised his eyebrows. He also offered her a wide grin. Tommy didn't quite understand it, but Doug had a way about him where people just couldn't resist his facial expressions. If he wanted something, usually all he had to do was either smile or pout and people would fall for it instantly.

"Go ahead," she agreed. There were certain people at the school and around town who Tommy and Doug had wrapped around their little fingers. It was strange how people either hated them or loved them. There was hardly ever any in between. The McQuaid brothers seemed to make friends with very strange people, like lunch ladies, owners of bars, and homeless men... Except that homeless man didn't seem so friendly anymore.

Tommy and Doug thanked Linda and took their trays to the nearest table. The table was nearly full when they got there, and emptied quickly as soon as they sat down. Tommy didn't bother feeling offended. He didn't want those people sitting around him anyway. His brother's company was all he cared for.

"I see you found him," Tommy heard someone say. There was a man approaching them. He looked like a teacher, but not a teacher he had ever seen around here before. Must be a sub. Was he talking to them? He was looking at them...

"What?" Tommy squinted up at him.

"Your brother was looking for you yesterday. You're both meant to be in my class," the man explained, "I see you've finally found each other."

"Yeah..." Doug narrowed his eyes as well.

"Everything okay?" the man asked, "you look like you had a kind of rough night," the teacher gestured toward Doug's cheek, the cheek with the huge bruise and cut, which had stopped bleeding, but was still noticeable.

Both of the boys shrugged simultaneously.

"You going to come to class today? You missed an exciting lecture yesterday," he told them.

"Who the fuck are you?" Tommy finally asked.

The man laughed, "I'm Mr. Morris, filling in for Mrs. Klein until she feels better. It's nothing serious, so you don't need to worry about her."

Tommy raised his eyebrows. He was unsure about this man. Usually substitutes got angry at him when he swore at them. But not this guy. He just ignored the swearing completely. Tommy wasn't sure if he liked that. He didn't say vulgar things just to be ignored. When he said something for shock value, he expected people to react with shock. What was this guy's deal? "I wasn't planning on it," he informed the man.

Morris just laughed, "well, she'll be alright anyway, whether you worry about her or not."

Tommy stared at him still, "We might be in class," he said, "depends on how we feel when the time comes. A lot could happen between now and then. We can't really make any promises."

Mr. Morris laughed, "it's no skin off my back," he shrugged, "it's your education. I can't _force_ you to care about your own future."

"What future?" Tommy scoffed, staring up at the teacher.

"How should I know?" the man asked, "it'll be whatever you make of it."

"We'll probably be there," Doug cut in, "in class, I mean," he glanced over at Tommy for a moment. His facial expression silently told Tommy to keep quiet and stop arguing with this man, but Tommy wasn't through yet.

"I hope so," Mr. Morris looked from Tommy to Doug, "you two probably have more potential than you know. Put forth the effort, and you'd be amazed."

"Maybe we're fucking idiots," Tommy glared, "how the hell would you know? Maybe you should stop giving kids false hope when you know nothing about them. What if I'm a complete fucking moron, and you're here telling me I've got potential if I just try... What if I try my hardest and fail anyway. What a fucking let down."

Morris shrugged, "at least you'll have tried. You can't know what you are and aren't capable of if you don't even try. Personally, I'd rather try and fail than not try at all."

Tommy scoffed, "are you done?" he growled.

"I'll see you boys in class," the substitute said and walked away.

Tommy sighed loudly.

"Geeze," Doug clapped his hand over his brother's shoulder, "calm down, man. You're acting like this is the first time a teacher ever said something like that to you. Just chill out."

Tommy shook his head, "I'm just tired. I feel sick and I'm tired. I want to go home and sleep, but I can't go home. My life is fucked right now, and he's telling me I can turn it all around just by listening in class?"

His older brother shrugged, "everything will be okay. We're having a rough couple of days. But it'll all work out. It always does."

...

At the request of Tommy, neither of the McQuaid brothers showed up to Mr. Morris's class. Doug could tell his brother didn't like the man, and he could see why. Doug wasn't too fond of people giving him pep talks either.

He knew how easy it was to tell someone to make good choices and try their best. He also knew how frustrating it could be to hear those words when you feel like life hasn't been at all fair to you. If you're a rich kid whose parents help you with your homework every night, going to class, paying attention, and putting your best foot forward was easy. It was a different story when you were afraid of the only parent you had, didn't always know where you'd be sleeping at night, and made a living selling drugs and stealing off people.

When you were constantly worried about protecting yourself and your brother and just making it through one day at a time, homework didn't seem so important.

It was about midnight now. Doug looked up as his brother climbed the tree next to his bedroom window. They always left their windows unlocked, just in case they ever needed to sneak back in like this, which they often did.

He sincerely hoped their father was asleep. All the lights in the house were off, which was a good sign, but he knew better than to assume without a doubt that the man wouldn't be bothering them.

Tommy slid his window up slowly, trying his hardest to avoid making any noise. He then climbed into the room quietly as well. Both of the boys were pretty good at being quiet when they wanted to be.

Doug climbed up the tree next, making quick work of the familiar task. He then climbed into the window just as quietly as his brother had. Now they were standing in Tommy's room, with only the light of the moon present so that they could only just make out each other's facial features. They both stood still for a moment, staring at each other silently, waiting. The house was still completely silent.

"You goin' to your room?" Tommy whispered.

Doug nodded, "yeah," he said back in a small voice, "if you wake up before me, just climb back down the tree and get yourself to school. I'll meet you there. If I wake up first, I'll come by and wake you up."

His little brother frowned, "I'm not leavin' you here alone with him," he argued, still keeping his voice down.

"He's gonna be mad at you," Doug informed him, "not me. You're the one the school called him about. You're the one who sold his cigarettes. If he's gonna snap at someone, it's gonna be you. So for now, you just need to look after yourself."

Tommy shook his head, "and what's he gonna do if he comes in here looking for me and I'm not here? He's gonna go in there and ask you. And I'm sure you can imagine how that'll go."

"Tommy," Doug put his hands on his brother's shoulders and stared into his large, dark eyes, "if you wake up tomorrow, and you hear him moving around downstairs, you need to get out of here. If you are pretty sure he's still asleep, you can come wake me up. Otherwise, just get yourself out. I can take care of myself. You know that."

"So can I," Tommy frowned, "I don't need you treating me like a little kid. I can take care of myself just fine."

"Then do it," Doug instructed.

Tommy just scowled at him. He looked like he wanted to argue more, but he kept silent. Doug hoped Tommy would be smart enough to get out of the house as soon as possible in the morning. Doug didn't need his little brother trying to be a hero for him. If their dad was going to beat anyone up, Doug would prefer it to be himself rather than Tommy. He was bigger. He could fight back better and take more punches without anything breaking.

He hoped they could both be out of the house before their father found them there. Maybe he'd assume they were still out and wouldn't even check for them. Or maybe they'd both wake up early enough to be out of there before the man woke up. Time would tell...

"Remember," Doug reminded Tommy, "as soon as you wake up, get yourself out of here." He didn't stick around to let his brother argue with him. The kid was either going to listen or he wasn't. There was little Doug could really say or do to change his mind about it.

He tip-toed to his own room and closed the door lightly behind himself. Then he crawled into his bed and fell asleep.

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Alright... The chapters are finally getting longer and more interesting. :) I hope you liked this one. Please feel free to review it. I'd love to know what you think.  
_**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter6

Tommy must have been extremely tired. He was usually a light sleeper, ready to jump up at any small sound, but not today. Today he slept almost as though he was in a coma. Ordinarily, he'd wake up several times per night just from hearing small noises like wind or the house creaking, but that wasn't the case presently. His bed was so warm and comfortable compared to the cold stone-covered ground he'd slept on the previous night. That fact mixed with the fact that he was exhausted allowed him to sleep soundly through the night.

His deep sleep was the precise reason he didn't know his father was coming up the stairs and into his room until it was too late. Tommy awoke to the feeling of his father's hands on him, pulling him rather harshly up out of bed and them slamming him roughly against the wall.

An involuntary gasp escaped his throat, but before he could cry out for help from his brother or even say anything to defend himself, he felt a large hand clamp over his mouth. His father held him held up against the wall with his other hand and stared angrily down into his younger son's eyes, "don't even say anything," he growled, shaking Tommy slightly as he spoke, "your principal called me... Two fucking days ago," though obviously angry, his voice remained quiet, which was actually unfortunate. That meant there would be no chance of Doug hearing him and coming to his rescue. Not much of a chance anyway.

Tommy tried to say something, but it only came out as an indecipherable muffled noise. He brought his hands up to try to pry his father's fingers off his mouth, but that only made the man clamp his hand down harder. Tommy winced at the pain he felt from his father's hand pressing against his face hard enough make his jaw ache, and at the pain stemming from the back of his head being pushed against the wall.

"I could ask you where the fuck you've been for the past two days, but at this point I don't even give a damn. I don't need any more of your god damned excuses. You know what you've done wrong, and you know there are consequences to your actions," the man informed him as he pulled him away from the wall and started dragging him toward the stairs.

Tommy was practically being carried down the stairs. The few times his feet actually touched the floor, he wasn't really walking; he was being dragged. His father's arm was wrapped around his chest while his other hand remained clamped over his mouth. Tommy reached his hands out to the stair railing and the wall, desperately trying to keep himself from being dragged downstairs, but it was useless. Even as his fingers gripped around the railings, his father pulled him away before his grip could be secure enough to matter and they were at the bottom of the stairs just as fast as they would have been if Tommy hadn't struggled at all.

He knew what was going to happen. He had received this punishment before, many times. Down in the basement, the boys' father had two sets of chains attached to the ceiling, along with manacles of sorts. He had strung the chains up at about the time when Doug was getting big enough to fight him back. Their father would chain the boys' wrists so they couldn't move while he beat them, or he might just leave them down there for a while for them to 'think about what they had done wrong.' They had each experienced both versions of this punishment on numerous occasions. Tommy thought it was one of the worst things his father could ever do to them. It was one thing to hit someone, but to do it where they couldn't even fight back was just cruel.

Their father reserved this punishment for only his son's worst crimes. Or at least the crimes he interpreted as the worst. He never took his sons down to the basement if he wasn't absolutely furious with them. But the tricky thing about this was that he became furious quite easily. This wasn't even something the brothers could learn to side-step around. Sometimes they would find themselves receiving this punishment without even realizing what they had done wrong. But Tommy knew what he had done wrong this time. He may not have thought the punishment fit the crime, but his father did, and his father's opinion was the only one that seemed to matter.

The boy wanted to plead with his father, but the man's hand was still pressed firmly over his lips. Tommy tried to speak anyway though; it was his only defense. The only sound he could make was still soft and muffled.

They were down in the basement in no time. His father dragged him over to the corner where the chains were strung up and pushed him hard against the wall. Tommy could finally speak again, "I'm sorry!" he lied, raising his hands up in defense and shrinking back against the wall, "I won't do it again!" he lied once more as his father grabbed one of his wrists and forced it up above his head.

"There's no getting out of this, son," the man told him, "if you don't get punished for the things you do wrong, you'll never learn. The best thing you can do now is just take your punishment like a man and learn from it."

Tommy whimpered. He knew he could scream right now and his brother would probably hear him. But he also knew that he didn't want to drag his brother into this. If Doug knew what was going on down here, he would certainly rush down and do whatever it took to stop it. He would physically attack their father, which would only get him in trouble as well. If Tommy just stayed quiet, he could take his punishment without Doug ever getting involved. Tommy's screaming would only result in his brother having to endure some sort of punishment too. He had told his brother last night that he was fully capable of taking care of himself, and he had meant it. So he went against his instincts and stayed quiet.

With one hand secured up above his head, Tommy faced his father, who was reaching for his other hand. But Tommy pulled it away, tucking it behind himself, "wait," he gasped, "can't we just talk this out?" he was beginning to panic. Talking things out never worked, but he wasn't going to stop trying, "I know what I did was wrong," he stammered. His father reached for his hand again, but Tommy backed up as best as he could, keeping his hand behind himself so his father couldn't reach it, "I-"

He was cut off in mid-sentence when he felt his father's hand slam against the side of his head, "give me your god-damned hand," he growled, spinning his son around so that he was facing the wall. He then grabbed Tommy's free wrist and chained it up next to the first. Even as Tommy desperately tried to pull his hand out of his father's grip, the man had no trouble locking it up just like he had the boy's other hand.

At this point, he expected to feel the stinging sensation of his father's belt striking his back, but for a moment nothing happened. He wondered what the man was waiting for, so he turned his body as best as he could to look at his father. He ended up with his wrists somewhat crossed above his head as he half-way faced the man.

"Why are you all bruised up?" the man asked, walking over and grabbing his son's arm, "you get into a fight at school or somethin?" Tommy had worn just boxers and socks to bed, so his father could see all of the bruises and scrapes up his son's arms and on his back.

Tommy shook his head, "no," he wasn't sure what to say. Should he tell his father that he got those bruises either from stumbling around drunk or from a fist fight with a homeless man? That probably wouldn't go over well. So he decided instead to not answer the question at all, and rather to go with something more defiant, "why do you give a shit anyway?" he hissed, "maybe they're from you," he pulled uselessly on the chains around his wrists.

"You hanging out with drug dealers and shit?" his father growled, squeezing his hand that was still wrapped around his son's arm.

Tommy tugged on the chains again but didn't offer his dad any answer or explanation.

"Fine," the man grumbled, "keep your mouth shut then. If you're not going to answer my questions, I'll assume the worst and punish you accordingly," he roughly turned Tommy back around so that his son's back faced him.

The youngest McQuaid felt his body become tense. There was really nothing he could do to make this better. The answers to his father's questions probably weren't going to make him any less angry. In fact, the worst case scenarios the man was imagining probably weren't too far from the truth.

He heard his father un-buckling his belt and pulling it out from the loops of his jeans. Tommy wondered why the man was already dressed. How early was it? Maybe it was later than he thought... Maybe his father had slept in those clothes.

Of course it didn't really fucking matter. He didn't know why he was thinking about it at all. He pulled at the chains around his wrists, again quite uselessly. When he finally convinced himself he wasn't going to be getting out of this, he leaned forward so that he was against the wall and closed his eyes tight.

He winced as he felt the sharp, painful, stinging flash of his father's belt connecting with his back. It stung horribly. Tommy wondered if that one would bleed or if it would be just a welt. It felt warm and he thought he could feel blood there, but he wasn't really sure.

When the next strike hit him, he cried out audibly, but quickly sucked his breath back in and squeezed his eyes shut tighter. Showing weakness wasn't an option if he was going to get through this ordeal. The second blow had landed partially over the first, making it hurt even more. Tommy squeezed his hands into fists and forced his feet and legs to keep holding him up so that his wrists didn't have to do all the work. He wished he could just disappear.

For a moment, Tommy thought maybe that was all, that his father wasn't going to hit him anymore, because the man paused longer than usual. But he did indeed strike his son again, with what felt like every ounce of strength he possessed.

Tears were welling up in Tommy's eyes. He put all of his thoughts into trying to keep them from falling. When he was younger, he would cry when his father hit him. He quickly learned that was a mistake. Crying only made his dad hit him more, and seemingly harder. Any time he saw or heard his son crying, he would make fun of the young boy; he'd tell him to man up and would threaten to hurt him even more if he kept up with his childish behavior.

His father hit him two more times. It took everything in Tom to keep himself from screaming. He found himself turning his body as much as he could to face his father. Talking hadn't worked. Taking the punishment certainly wasn't working. So he decided he'd try to fight back, even if he wasn't in much of a position to do so. Now turned more toward his father, he tried to kick the man, but he was standing too far away. Tommy's legs wouldn't reach him. He let out a frustrated, defeated groan as he kicked out again, hoping somehow that his legs would reach further this time. All of these efforts only resulted in the man taking a swing at him with the belt and hitting him on his chest instead of on his back.

He couldn't help but cry out at that one. The skin on his chest was much more sensitive and much less used to such treatment. He managed to keep his tears from falling, but still felt so drained and broken. If his hands hadn't been restrained above his head, Tommy was certain he would have crumpled to the floor.

"Keep your back to me, kid," his father instructed, "you got five more. Unless you keep fighting. Then we'll make it ten," he reached out and helped Tommy turn himself back around. His tone sounded like he was trying to give some sort of meaningful life advice to his son. He didn't sound cruel or angry. He sounded like he was actually trying to be helpful.

Breathing in and out with slow and shaking breaths, Tommy squeezed his wet eyes shut and braced himself for the next five strikes. He wrapped his fingers around the chains above his wrists as best as he could so that his hands could hold him up and there wouldn't be so much pressure on his aching wrists.

No matter how prepared he thought he was, he soon knew that he actually hadn't been at all. The belt struck him again, hard enough to make him wince, and then again, even harder. When the second strike hit him, he accidentally let go of one of the chains and fell slightly forward, causing the restraint to tug rather painfully on his wrist. Hopefully his wrist wasn't broken, but it certainly did hurt, and so did his back. The pain all of a sudden seemed like way too much for him to handle. Without meaning to, he made a sobbing sound and could feel a tear hit his cheek.

With fear inside him, he sniffed and tried to make his tears stop. He wouldn't cry if he was scared enough. Fear outweighed sadness and hurt. He was so scared that it almost worked, but not fast enough.

"You're not actually fucking crying, are you?" his father asked, but didn't wait for an answer. He didn't need to. The question had been rhetorical, "You god damned little pussy... Better make it ten more then."

Tommy sobbed again, "No!" he pleaded, "I'll stop... I'm sorry!" As much as he hated pleading with the man, he was feeling incredibly desperate right about now. He wasn't sure how much more of this he could take, "please," he choked out, "I learned my lesson. I won't cry anymore, and I won't sell any more cigarettes," he breathed in and out loudly, much louder than he wanted to, but he couldn't control it. He was in so much pain and it was obviously a lot for his body to try to handle while also maintaining consciousness. He was actually trembling.

"If you want me to stop treating you like a little child, you're going to need to stop acting like one," his father taunted him. He swung the belt down again, creating another painful mark on top of the others, "one," he began to count.

Tommy winced, "this is how you treat children?" he squeezed his hands into fists again and gritted his teeth. He was so angry right now.

"Two," his father said, hitting him again and ignoring his son's question.

By now Tommy was pretty sure he was angry enough to keep himself from crying again. Sometimes when his father hit him, he allowed himself to feel too emotionally hurt by it. He would forget that his father was always like this and would find himself feeling extremely betrayed. When he remembered that this man was his father only biologically and not really in any sort of family sense, he didn't feel so much like his daddy was hurting him, but like some enemy had gotten the upper hand on him for a moment. Instead of sad, he felt angry, which was a much easier emotion to deal with.

"Three," he heard his father count off another blow, but as he braced himself for the strike, it never came.

"Leave him alone," he heard the stoic voice of his older brother. Tommy turned himself around as much as possible in order to witness what was going on behind him.

Doug and their father were fighting with each other now. Tommy's older brother had grabbed their father's arm and pulled him away from the other McQuaid brother. Their father pushed Doug roughly as well, slamming him up against the wall.

"You want in on this, boy?" the man offered, "We've got eight left. Someone's taking them."

While Doug was up against the wall, regaining his breath, Tommy watched as his father raised the belt up again, toward the younger of the two brothers. He couldn't turn himself back around completely in time. The belt smacked against his side, curling around to his ribs. Tommy held in his gasp of pain this time, allowing his body to jerk away at the impact, but not allowing any sound above a faint groan escape his lips.

His older brother was back up in no time. He practically tackled their father, but the man was stronger than each of his sons. He had Doug pushed back against the wall easily, right next to Tommy. He threw his belt down for a moment, grabbing at Doug's arm and pulling it above his head, chaining it only a few inches away from one of Tommy's hands. The shackles made for Doug were up higher, since he was taller, but were positioned very close to Tommy's. They were so close they were practically standing on top of each other. Even though Tommy was so close, there wasn't a damn thing he could do to help his brother out. All he could do was stand and watch as his father chained up his brother right next to him.

Their father grabbed Doug's other hand, shackling it up next to the other. Overpowering Doug seemed harder for him than it had been with Tommy, but still wasn't even a contest.

Tommy looked up into Doug's eyes for a moment. He looked worried and sad, but also angry. Tommy hoped his brother wasn't angry at him. Doug had instructed his little brother to get out of the house before something like this happened and Tommy had failed to do so.

Out of the corner of his eye, Tommy saw his father raising his hand up again, with his belt ready to deliver another blow. So Tom closed his eyes and turned away, cowering down inadvertently, trying to make himself as small as possible. He didn't want any more strikes to hit him on his chest or side. Those were especially painful. But instead of feeling the stinging sensation of the belt connecting with his skin, he felt something else entirely. His brother had pressed his body up against Tommy's, shielding him as best as he could with his own body.

Their father must have found this acceptable, because he didn't demand that Doug step away. Instead, he just delivered the last seven blows in a rhythmic fashion. Doug was stronger than Tommy, both emotionally and physically. He didn't cry out. He made a few sounds of discomfort, but if Tommy didn't know any better, he'd wonder if Doug was really hurt at all. He seemed more like he was annoyed than in any large amount of pain.

But Tommy did know better. He knew his older brother was in pain. He could hear his brother's hitched breaths with each strike that hit him, and could feel his larger body tensing up and flinching against Tommy's smaller frame. He didn't gasp, cry, or beg; he instead remained as still as it seemed he possibly could. Doug was in just as much pain as Tommy was. He was just better at hiding it.

As their father swung the belt down at Tommy's big brother, over and over gain, the younger could feel Doug's body tensing up against his each time. Tommy felt incredibly guilty that Doug was letting himself get hurt for something Tommy had done wrong. This wasn't Doug's fault. It was Tommy's. He tried to push his brother away, so he could take his own punishment, but Doug kept his feet planted firmly in place. With his arms tied up above his head, virtually useless, Tommy couldn't really do anything to push his brother away from him. Doug wanted to shield his brother from his father, and that was exactly what he was going to do. Tom had no say in the matter.

After what felt like forever but was probably closer to no time at all, their father was through. He slid his belt back through the loops on his pants and walked up the stairs without a word, leaving his sons there.

Tommy wished he had his hands free so he could wipe the tears off his face. He tried to do it with his arms instead, and was actually pretty successful. Doug was still pressed up against him.

"How many times did he hit you before I got here?" Doug wondered, looking down at him.

"I don't know," Tommy answered, looking up at his brother and hoping he didn't look as hurt as he felt. He kind of lost track of how many times his father had hit him, so he couldn't really answer his brother's question.

"You're shaking," Doug noted.

Tommy breathed in and out slowly, trying to calm himself, "I'm sorry-" he muttered without thinking.

Doug shook his head, "don't be."

Tommy sighed, "I know..." he shook his head in frustration with himself. He didn't know why he had apologized for that... He supposed he just wasn't thinking properly. He breathed in and out again until he felt that he wasn't shaking so much anymore. Feeling his brother so close to him also made him feel safer. He knew Doug couldn't really do much to protect him. If their father really _wanted_ to hurt Tommy, he would, regardless of what Doug thought... But his big brother's close proximately still made him feel safe.

"You gonna be alright?" Doug asked.

Tommy nodded and both of the boys stepped away from each other slightly. They were now standing a little less than a foot apart.

Tommy looked over at his brother. He was wearing a white t-shirt, boxers, and socks. Tommy frowned. The front of his brother's shirt had lines of blood on it. That was the part of his shirt that had been pressed up against his little brother's back. The blood wasn't Doug's; it was Tommy's.

He leaned backward to see if he could see Doug's back. Since he was wearing a shirt, he might not have cuts from the belt like Tommy had. Maybe his shirt would have helped prevent that. It looked that way. The back of his shirt didn't have any red on it like the front had. That was good. Doug would definitely still be in pain, but at least he wasn't bleeding.

Doug was looking him over as well. He looked up Tommy's chest and let his eyes linger on his little brother's face, "are you alright?" he finally asked, looking extremely worried.

He must have seen that his younger sibling had been crying. Tommy wanted to kick himself for letting that happen. He hardly ever let himself cry. Why had he gone and done it when his brother was here to see? He frowned and nodded, "you didn't have to do that," he said, looking down, "I'm the one who deserved to get punished. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Hey," Doug sounded angry, "look at me, Tommy," he growled, pausing until his brother complied, "you didn't deserve this," he said, shaking his head and staring down at Tom, "should you have been selling cigarettes? Probably not. In a perfect world, that's probably something that's frowned upon, something that you shouldn't be doing if you're a teenager in school. But not here. Not in our world. Dad has no right - no fucking right at all, to try to tell you what's right and what's wrong. And you certainly didn't deserve to get hit with a belt over and over with your hands chained up so that you couldn't move. No one deserves that, no matter what they did wrong... And there's definitely nothing a fifteen year old could do for that sort of punishment to be acceptable."

Tommy stared up at him. He was right. Tommy didn't feel like he deserved to be beaten either. But he deserved it more than Doug did. He didn't tell his brother that though. He knew Doug wouldn't agree.

"How did you know I was down here?" Tommy asked.

"I heard you guys down here," Doug frowned.

"Oh," Tommy looked down. He must have been crying out louder than he'd meant to.

"You weren't down here long, were you?" Doug looked so worried.

Tommy did his best to shrug. When he found the gesture wasn't really working with his hands chained up as they were, he added, "I don't think so. It didn't seem like too long... I don't know..." now that he thought about it, he wasn't sure how long he'd been down there. Everything had been so hectic. It could have been a few minutes, or a half hour. He wouldn't bet on either.

"Let me see your back," Doug demanded.

But Tommy kept himself angled to face toward his brother, "you already did," he reminded him. He didn't want his brother to be worried about him. His back hurt of course, but Doug didn't need to see it any more than he already had. What good would it do?

"Come on, Tommy," Doug persisted. He furrowed his eyebrows and pouted, as he often did when he wasn't getting what he wanted.

Tommy sighed and turned himself around.

His brother was silent for a moment. Then finally, he spoke, "do you think you need to go to the hospital?" he asked, "that looks pretty painful."

Tommy shook his head, "it's fine," he assured his older brother.

"Maybe we should tell someone," Doug suggested, "I know we said we never would-"

"No!" Tommy interrupted, spinning himself around to face his older brother, "we can't!"

"Why not?" Doug argued, "why stay here? Why let him keep hurting us? What if he goes too far one day and kills one of us? You know he could if he wanted to. Hell, he might even do it on accident one day."

"If we tell on him," Tommy started, looking up at his brother, "people are going to look at us differently. They'll think we're weak. No one at school will take us seriously anymore. They'll all know..."

Doug laughed, "that's your biggest fear? You'd stay here and let him beat on you every day so that people at school will respect you... No, not respect, but fear you?"

"It's not only that," Tommy added, "maybe he won't even get in trouble. We'll be stuck here with him still, and he'll be even more mad at us. If he's going to kill us, it would be then. And what if he does go to jail? What would we do then? Where are we going to live? At least we have a house right now."

"Tommy, I'm not giving him many more chances," Doug frowned down at him, "I won't tell anyone about this yet... but the next time he hurts you, it's over. I'm telling someone, whether you like it or not."

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Review? Or not. *shrug* I'll try to start being more chill about reviews... I get too freaked out when I get few or no reviews and I think all my bitching is off putting... So just do what you will. Have a grand day._**


	7. Chapter 7

_**Thank you to everyone who is still reading and thank you doubly to those who review. Here is the next chapter. I hope you like it:**_

_**xxxxxx  
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Chapter7

For the first time since Mr. Morris had taken over Mrs. Klein's class, Doug and Tommy McQuaid found themselves sitting in his classroom. This was their last class of the day, but it was only the third class they had attended today.

After their father had finally let them out of the basement, the boys had grabbed the first clothing they could find, threw it on, and got out of the house as quickly as possible. Doug settled for just wearing jeans along with the white t-shirt he had already been wearing, even though it was stained with Tommy's blood. Tommy settled on wearing an oversized, light grey, long-sleeved shirt he was pretty sure belonged to Doug, and a pair of his own torn up jeans.

They had gone to school just because they wanted to be away from home as long as possible and school was a good place to waste a few hours. No one would throw them out of school, as long as they didn't get into any fights today... Or as long as they didn't get caught selling drugs... Pretty much as long as they stayed quiet and out of trouble, the would be able to use the school as a temporary safe haven.

Arriving at lunch time, they'd managed to score some free food from the lunch lady, Linda, who looked like she knew something was up with them, but who didn't ask any questions. She must have sensed that they weren't in the mood to explain themselves. They then attended their last three classes, which they both spent sitting in the back of each class room, being uncharacteristically silent.

They spent Mr. Morris's class sitting in the back quietly as well. Tommy seemed like he was zoned out, his mind a million miles away. He spent a majority of the class staring into the far corner. Meanwhile, Doug sat next to him, with his foot crossed up on his opposite leg as he picked at the bottom of his shoe. His shoes had been falling apart for a while now. Pulling little pieces off the bottom of them was a habit he had adopted.

He had been surprised, and also grateful that Mr. Morris hadn't made some sort of smart remark upon seeing that the brothers had finally made it to his class. He had expected something witty out of the man, and had expected his little brother to not take it well. One smart remark from Mr. Morris would probably be enough to push Tommy over the edge. Doug knew his little brother already didn't seem to like the man, and the last thing Tommy needed right now was someone needlessly bothering him. The kid was already stressed enough. Needless to say, Doug was very glad when they entered the room and sat down without the substitute teacher nagging at them.

In fact, they went through the entire class without the man saying a single word to them. He must have been able to sense that today wasn't a day to be messing with them.

When the end of the day school bell rang however, he finally acknowledged them, "Douglas, Tommy," he called out just as they were about to leave. They turned around and looked at him, "you've got detention today. You can report back here in five minutes, or just stay put, since you're here already. It's up to you."

Doug considered this. It wasn't as if they wanted to go home anyway. Spending an extra hour at school would at least provide them with a safe place to be for a little while longer. The brothers didn't ordinarily attend such things as detention, but it didn't seem so bad today.

Tommy must not have agreed, "what for?" he growled, glaring up at the man, "We finally show up and you give us detention? What kind of ass backwards motivation is that?" he sounded angry.

"It's not for today, Tommy," Mr. Morris informed him. Though Tommy had been yelling, the teacher's voice remained calm, "you skipped my class two days in a row. One measly detention is the least you could serve to make up for it."

Doug elbowed him, "come on, man. Let's just do it," he whispered, "it's not like we've got anything better to do."

"I'll stay if you give us money for sodas," Tommy scowled at the man. The brothers hadn't found a way to make any more money since the homeless man had stolen Tommy's wallet and marijuana. They had more drugs stowed at home, but hadn't had a chance to sell any of them.

"Fine," Mr. Morris agreed, much to Doug's surprise. He fished some coins out of his pocket and handed them to Tommy, who looked very suspicious as he took them, "I'll see you in a few minutes," he man reminded him.

Doug followed Tommy out of the room and toward the cafeteria where there were a few soda vending machines.

"Does he really expect us to come back?" Tommy laughed.

"We might as well, Tommy," Doug explained, "where do you want to go instead? Back home? I'd rather stay in detention."

"I guess so," Tommy agreed, pushing the coins into the vending machine and pressing one of the buttons. He reached down and grabbed the can, "what do you want?" he asked his brother as he put the rest of the coins into the machine.

Doug reached over and hit one of the buttons. Tommy grabbed the can out of the machine and handed it over to his brother.

Tommy sighed loudly, "I think I got blood on your shirt," he frowned, turning and trying to see his own back, "I thought all the blood was dry, but I must have been wrong," he looked up at his brother, "I'm sorry," he pouted.

Doug looked at his brother's back. Sure enough there were a few lines of blood on the shirt Tommy was wearing. He hoped they hadn't been there all day. It was possible the injuries had just started bleeding again recently. Or they could have been bleeding ever since his little brother put the shirt on. He wondered how many people had seen it. Of course, Doug had blood on the shirt he was wearing too. Somehow he didn't think it mattered so much. Maybe because the blood wasn't his, "I might have a jacket in my locker," he offered.

"No," Tommy shook his head, "I don't want to get your jacket all bloody."

"You won't," Doug assured him, reaching over and gripping his brother's shoulder and squeezing it lightly, "the shirt you're wearing probably soaked it all up already. Besides, the jacket's black. It won't even stain it anyway."

Tommy shrugged, "fine," he agreed.

Doug made his way to his locker. Tommy walked next to him. He didn't keep his locker locked, so there was no need to put in the combination, which he had forgotten anyway. He pulled the jacket out and handed it to his brother, watching as he put the garment on.

The jacket was too big for his little brother, but that was nothing he didn't expect. It did the job of covering up the blood stains, so the fact that it was a bit oversized didn't matter.

They walked together back down to Morris's room, making their way to the back corner and sitting down in seats right next to each other. Normally teachers monitoring detention would tell them to sit away from each other. If this guy did, they were probably going to be out of there. But Morris didn't say anything.

They stayed back in their corner, silently watching as a few more students filed into the room.

As the brothers sipped their drinks and watched the other three students who had recently joined them, Morris walked over to them.

Doug looked up at him, but Tommy paid him no attention at all.

Morris pulled a chair up right next to them so that they were close enough that he could speak quietly so they could hear him but the other students couldn't, "is everything alright with you guys?" he asked.

Doug frowned, "yeah," he answered simply, "we're good."

"You've got blood on your shirt, Douglas," Morris reminded him, looking down at the lines of blood staining the front of his t-shirt, "and you're both always bruised up... If you're having problems at home, you can tell me. You've got nothing to be ashamed or scared of. I may not be your regular teacher, but as long as I'm here, I'm going to look after my students. No matter what anyone else says, it would be better for you to tell someone than keep silent if someone at home is hurting you."

"No one is," Tommy cut in, finally staring up at the man with narrowed eyes and a pouting frown, "we got into a fight with some guys. Not that it's any of your business. If you think we look beat up, you should see the other guys."

Morris forced a sympathetic smile, "Just remember I'm here if you need to talk to someone about anything like that. If I keep seeing you boys looking like someone's beating you, I'm going to report it. I have a duty, as a teacher, to report suspected child abuse. And I know you two aren't dumb enough to think you can hide something like that."

"We're not children," Tommy frowned, "and if someone _was_ trying to abuse us, we wouldn't let them. There's two of us. Do you really think someone would even dare to try to fuck with us like that?"

Morris shrugged, "you know your lives better than I do. If everything's fine at home, you've got nothing to worry about... and I hope you're telling the truth. But I can tell you this: I'm going to keep my eye on you two. If I suspect anything, I'm not going to help you hide a secret like that."

"Okie dokie," Doug patted the man on the arm, "thanks, man. Bye." It was nice to know someone cared, but he didn't really want him to care right now. They could handle this on their own. Doug had already made up his mind that he was going to tell someone if anything like what happened this morning happened again. He didn't need this random teacher he barely knew trying to weasel his way into their lives. Doug had this under control. Morris rolled his eyes and walked away, leaving the two brothers alone again.

"Don't you dare say anything to him," Tommy scowled up at his brother.

"I won't," Doug assured him, "don't worry about it."

It wasn't long before someone else was bothering them. This time, however, Doug didn't mind so much. A girl who he didn't know had taken the seat in front of them and was turned around to face them. Ordinarily Doug didn't like anyone bothering him, weather they were a girl or a guy, but he found this girl to be rather pretty, which made her presence much less annoying.

"Hey," she greeted them with an award-winning smile.

Doug nodded, "hey," he smiled back, "how come I don't know you?" he wondered. She was awfully attractive. Even if she wasn't in his grade, he should have noticed her in the halls by now.

"I'm new," she told him, holding out her hand so he could shake it, "I've only been here three days, and I'm a senior." she shrugged, "I don't know what grades you guys are in, so maybe that's why we haven't met. Judy Gillis," she introduced herself, offering another smile. Doug shook her hand.

She offered it next to Tommy, but he just waved her off, "pass." he slouched down and looked at her skeptically. Judy's smile faded for a moment and she pulled her hand back awkwardly. She looked disappointed. It made Doug feel bad.

"I'm Doug, and this is my brother Tommy," he offered, "We're the McQuaid brothers. I'm sure you've heard of us if you've been here a whole three days."

She laughed, "Of course I have. People seem pretty scared of you guys," she looked from Doug to Tommy and then back at Doug, "what are you guys in here for?" she asked.

"Skipping class," Doug answered. He then grinned, "but that's the least of our crimes. What about you? You don't look like the type that would have detention," he eyed her suspiciously.

"Hey..." she frowned, making a pouting face, "I'll have you know I get detention all the time," she said it as if it was something she was proud of. She then leaned in closer and whispered, "you know where I could buy some pot?" she asked, "I've heard around that you guys might know. I've been here three days and still haven't made any good connections."

Doug laughed, "yeah. I know a place where you could buy some."

Tommy pulled on his arm, leaning in and whispering into his ear, "you bringing her home?" he asked, not waiting for an answer, "you sure that's a good idea?"

He pushed Tommy back, ignoring his brother's question "you okay with coming by our house after this?" he asked, his eyes still on Judy.

She smiled and her eyes brightened, "yeah," she nodded.

Tommy sighed loudly and leaned back in his chair. He obviously didn't think now was a good time to be bringing a girl over to their house. Of course, Doug saw it differently. Their father wouldn't try anything if Tommy and Doug had a friend over. In fact, he sometimes seemed rather charming around anyone who wasn't one of his sons. There was a reason he had gotten away with abusing his children for so long. Most people would never suspect the man of doing anything like that.

"Alright then," Doug smiled back, "I guess after this, meet back up with us. We live close enough to walk. Unless you have a car."

"Walking's fine," she smiled as she stood up, "make sure you guys don't leave school without me."

"We won't," Doug grinned at her and watched her walk back to where she had been sitting before.

"You in love now?" Doug heard Tommy mumble behind him.

He turned around and looked at his brother who was scowling over at him, "shut up," he shoved him lightly on his shoulder, "we gotta make money somehow, right?"

Tommy shrugged, "you could have just brought it to school tomorrow. You like her," his eyebrows were raised, daring Doug to deny this accusation.

"Well, to be fair," Doug started, "I barely know her. But she is pretty. You can't deny that."

"So are a lot of girls," Tommy said, "but I don't bring them over to our house."

"She's just coming over to buy drugs," Doug whispered, "it's not like we're gonna hook up or anything."

"I know," Tommy sighed, "you realize you've made it where we _have_ to go home after this now. There's no staying out until midnight now. Dad's probably going to be there, and we'll probably have to fight with him if we want to leave again," the brothers were both whispering now, so that no one in the class, especially not the teacher, could hear their conversation.

"We'll just stay home all night then," Doug offered, "we'll shut up and not talk to him at all," he suggested, "and if he says something to you, please don't be sarcastic or rude to him. I know he deserves it, but you'll just get yourself in trouble."

"I'm not stupid," Tommy glared.

Doug raised his eyebrows. He knew Tommy wasn't stupid, but sometimes the boy's mouth moved faster than his brain. He hadn't quite mastered the art of shutting up and letting their father win an argument even when he was wrong, "I know you aren't," Doug frowned, "but I also know it's not always easy to just let it go when he says something awful. Even if it feels wrong, just let him say whatever he wants."

Tommy was pouting, "Fine," he agreed, "hopefully he'll just shut up and be good while Judy's over."

"He usually is nicer when someone's over," Doug reminded him.

"Good," Tommy sighed, "keep her there as long as you can then."

_**xxxxxx**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**This chapter is told in Judy's point of view (still 3rd person though). But this is the only chapter written in her perspective. I hope no one minds, but I thought telling a chapter from her perspective would be interesting. I seriously hope you agree, but if you don't, I guess there's nothing anyone can do about it now... The focus is still on Doug and Tommy, so it's not like she's taking over the story... Here you go: **_

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Chapter 8

Practically dragging his feet on the sidewalk as he walked, Tommy led the the way to the McQuaid house. Doug and Judy followed side by side a few paces behind him. Judy frowned as she noticed Tommy's posture. His shoulders were slumped and he was staring down at his own feet as he walked ahead of them, almost as if he was walking to his own execution. Tommy didn't seem to like her very much. Of course, he had no reason to, but he had no reason to hate her either. Maybe he just hated people in general.

Judy had told the boys she was a senior at their school, but she was actually an undercover cop (as I'm sure you could have guessed.) Her name was Judy Hoffs, not Gillis, and rather than eighteen, she was actually twenty three years old, even if she didn't look it.

Judy had been enrolled at this school to try to help find out who was supplying many of the students with drugs. The school seemed to have a bigger drug problem than most. Of course, there were bound to be drugs circulating around any high school, but this one was the worst in the city. If the cops could find a common supplier, they could probably really help out a lot of the kids who went to school there.

She had been put into a few classes with the McQuaid brothers, but since the boys kept skipping class, she hadn't had any luck talking to them until today. The brothers' refusal to attend class and reluctance to talk to anyone was unfortunate for the case, because everyone around the school seemed to know that the brothers sold drugs. The fact that the two of the made themselves so difficult to talk to wasn't helping Jump Street's investigation at all.

Following Tommy and Doug up their front steps, Judy smiled as Doug held the door open for her, "Thank you," she said.

"Where the hell have you guys been?" she heard someone's voice call out.

"We had detention, Dad," Doug answered with an exasperated tone as the man walked into the room. The older of the brothers sounded like he was answering the dumbest question he'd ever heard.

The man's face looked angry for a brief moment, but that all vanished as soon as he noticed Judy standing there, "Oh, hello there, sweetheart," he greeted her with a charming smile, "I didn't realize you were there."

She smiled back, "hey," she reached out her hand, "I'm Judy," she introduced herself.

He took her hand in his and shook it gently, "What on earth brings you here, Judy?" he wondered, still smiling, "you're not dating one of my kids, are you? Surely someone as lovely as you could do better than either of them."

She frowned. That was pretty blunt, but maybe he was just joking. She decided not to acknowledge his rude remark at all, "Um... We're working on a school project together," she lied.

Mr. McQuaid laughed, "of course. I hope you realize you'll be doing all the work. These kids are the laziest, dumbest boys you'll ever meet."

"Come on," Doug grabbed her arm and started pulling her up the stairs.

"It was... um..." Judy started as she was led up the stairs, "nice to meet you..."

"You too, sweetheart," Mr. McQuaid called up after her.

Judy wondered if the boys' father had just been kidding around with them. Calling kids stupid and lazy didn't seem like a very funny joke to her. And the brothers didn't seem to find it funny either. No one but their father had laughed. In fact, neither of the brothers had even smiled.

She followed Doug upstairs and into one of the brothers' rooms. Standing awkwardly in the bedroom, Judy fixed her gaze on Doug, who was frowning. He looked over at his brother who had been following behind Judy. Tommy closed the door behind them and turned toward her, "how much money you got?" he asked.

"What could I get for twenty?" she asked.

Doug went over to the dresser and sifted through one of the middle drawers, finally pulling out a small bag, "how 'bout this?" he asked, tossing it to her, "I'm giving you a little more for your money than I normally would," he added with a smile.

"Yeah," she agreed, taking a twenty dollar bill out of her pocket and handing it over to the older brother, "seems fair to me." She wasn't going to bust them for this. Marijuana wasn't something she was incredibly concerned about. She was just letting them warm up to her so that they might be willing to sell her something harder later. She certainly wasn't going to try to buy cocaine or heroine off them after only speaking to them one time. Maybe they didn't even sell it. She didn't know. Even asking to buy pot off them so soon had been risky, but she wasn't sure how else she'd get her foot in the door. They didn't seem interested in talking to anyone who wasn't buying drugs off them. Doug seemed to be warming up to her though. For now, she was just going to try to make friends with them, or at least with Doug.

More than she wanted to get these boys in trouble, she wanted to find out who was supplying them with the drugs. The way she saw it, these kids still had a chance to turn their lives around. She hoped she could help them do so.

Her partner Harry Ioki was also working on this case, making friends with a different group of kids who were also known to sell drugs. She hoped both groups were getting their drugs from a common supplier and that they could find that person, take them out of the equation, and then work with the kids afterward to try to get their lives back on track.

The McQuaid brothers didn't seem like bad kids to her. They seemed like they wanted everyone to think they were though. And the younger one in particular seemed to be in a very bad mood today. Maybe he was always this way. She couldn't say with any certainty. Their father might have something to do with that. She'd only spoken to the man for less than a minute and already she could see how much his words probably damaged the self esteem of his sons. She wished she could arrest him just for being a jerk, but she knew she couldn't.

Tommy sighed, "Now that we've gotten that taken care of, I'm going to take a nap," he informed them. She watched as he climbed into bed and laid down on top of the messed up sheets, groaned and then turned over onto his side. He didn't even bother taking off his shoes. Still lying down, he glanced over at Judy. He looked tired, "please stay as long as you want."

She narrowed her eyes back at him, wondering if he was being sarcastic. His tone certainly didn't sound sarcastic. But why would he wait until he had company over to decide to take a nap. Most people didn't just go to sleep around people they didn't know. Maybe he was trying to tell her it was time for her to leave without him actually coming out and saying it. She shifted from one foot onto the other and looked over at Doug. Maybe she could read him better. If they wanted her to leave, she supposed she'd honor that request.

"He's had a rough couple of nights," Doug informed her, "our dad's always on our case about something or another. He won't bother us if we have a friend over. That's all Tommy meant. So don't be offended."

She nodded, "Oh."

"So are you staying for a while then?" Doug asked, his face looking very hopeful.

She shrugged, "I guess so," she agreed. She wasn't sure what Doug had meant about their father always 'being on their case,' but now that he'd said it, she would have felt guilty to leave. She didn't want to be the reason they got yelled at or anything, "So..." she started, trying to think of something to say, "what grades are you guys in?"

"I'm a junior," Doug informed her as he sat down on the floor in front of Tommy's bed, "and he's a sophomore," he added, gesturing toward his brother who was already breathing more steadily as though he had fallen asleep. He must have been very tired, "you making friends at school yet?" Doug added.

She shrugged, "I guess so," she answered, also taking a seat on the floor.

Doug looked like he was embarrassed, "of course you are," he said, averting his eyes, "I mean, look at you. Guys are probably flocking over to you like sheep. You probably don't make friends with girls that easy though. Girls are crazy and jealous."

Judy laughed. That was actually true. She didn't usually have many female friends. She hadn't in high school, and she didn't now that she was an adult. She worked with a bunch of men, who she considered her friends. She never considered that anyone would be jealous of her though. She figured she just related to men more easily than to women.

"What's your family like?" Doug asked, looking quite genuinely interested.

"I live with my mom," she told him, "my parents are divorced, and I'm an only child, so it's just me and her. I visit my dad sometimes, but usually I live with my mom," she hoped she'd never have to produce this family for any reason. Surely Doug wouldn't require evidence.

"Is she nice?" Doug wondered, his eyes wide and brows knitted together as if she was describing a celebrity she had met. He seemed quite strangely interested in what her mother was like. Maybe his mother had left and he missed her...

Judy nodded, "we get along okay usually," she answered, "what about you? Who's all in your family?"

Doug frowned, "Just me, Tommy, and Dad," he sounded disappointed, "Mom died when we were young. She was real nice though, from what I remember. I was only six. Tommy barely remembers her, but I do."

"Oh," She frowned as well. She hated when she allowed herself to care so much about the kids she worked with. Of course, she didn't wish to feel indifferent about it all either. She just wished all these kids didn't have such sad backgrounds. It seemed that during every single case she worked on, the kids involved would have some sort of tragic past, be that a sudden death in their family, physical or sexual abuse, an incurable disease, victims of bullies... There was no end to the possibilities of what these kids could be going through. She supposed people in general had sad life stories. Each person on the planet was bound to have something tragic or traumatizing happen at some point in their lives. It just always bothered her to see teenagers whose lives were already more complicated than her own adult life.

"Sorry," Doug averted his eyes, "I didn't mean to make you depressed. Shit happens, you know? We're all good now," he looked back up wearing a smile, but she could see in his eyes that he was still thinking about his mother, "Tommy and I are pretty strong. We'll be alright. It's none of your concern anyway."

"Do you like your dad at least?" She asked. The answer seemed obvious, but she wondered if he'd lie. The man didn't seem very kind at all. She hoped he wasn't an abusive alcoholic or anything. She wouldn't be surprised. There were more people like that out in the world than most people realized. Tommy and Doug also seemed like the kind of kids who might be victims of abuse. They were sort of bullies to other the kids at school and they even each had visible bruises at the moment. If Doug told her right now that his dad was hurting him and his brother, Judy wouldn't be surprised.

"Not really," Doug didn't bother sugar coating his answer, "I'd rather just live with Tommy, but we don't really have that option. Tommy and I get along great," he changed the subject in an instant, "we do everything together. He's my best friend. You may have noticed this already, but neither of us really get along with anyone at school."

"Well, do you want to have friends at school?" she asked, "because you don't seem to be trying very hard. It's hard to make friends with people who are scared of you. You seem perfectly nice to me. I bet if you treated other people like you're treating me, you'd have lots of friends. People probably want to get to know you if you'd let them."

Doug laughed, "we don't want friends," he informed her, "I mean, I don't mind you..." he added, "but Tommy and I function best without a bunch of followers. Our lives are complicated enough without dragging other people into it, you know?."

She nodded, "I guess so..."

"You wanna listen to music or something?" he asked, standing up and walking over to a radio and tuning it before she had a chance to answer. He then walked back and reclaimed his position on the floor in front of his brother's bed.

Judy looked at Doug. He looked just as tired as Tommy seemed to be. His nose looked slightly bruised, like someone had punched him. Of course, someone probably had. She wouldn't be surprised to learn the McQuaid brothers got into fights with people at school. But he looked more beaten up than just that. His injuries didn't look like the result of a fair fight between two kids. He had what looked like blood on his shirt, and his wrists were bruised like someone had tied them up. That was extremely unsettling.

"What?" Doug's voice brought her out of her thoughts, "why you lookin' at me like that?"

She hesitated. Should she bring it up? Should she ask him what was going on? Just because they didn't get along with their father didn't mean he was abusive. Teenagers were notorious for being incompatible with their parents. But their visible injuries certainly did support the theory of abuse.

Doug probably didn't feel like he knew her that well yet. He might be extremely unwilling to talk to her about being abused if he in fact was an abuse victim. But if she didn't ask him now, it might not ever come up again. She'd hate to have a suspicion that these boys' father was hurting them and not do anything about it only to find out later that she had been right. Asking now might make him unwilling to talk to her ever again, but it might be her only chance to bring it up.

"Doug," she started, looking into his eyes. Smiling, he looked back into hers. She hoped he wasn't taking any of this as her flirting, because that wasn't what she was intending, "does your dad ever hit you?" she finally asked, holding her breath as she waited for the answer.

Doug narrowed his eyes, "why would you ask that?" he wondered.

"I..." she started, "well... you just look kind of beat up... and your wrists look hurt..." she paused, "don't be offended or anything... I just think you seem pretty cool and I wondered how you got so beat up. Tommy has bruises too..."

Doug frowned at the mention of his brother, "maybe you should leave," he suggested.

"I'm sorry," she stammered as Doug stood up and then grabbed her hands, pulling her to her feet as well, "I didn't mean-"

"It's okay," Doug interrupted as he put his hand on her back and led her toward the bedroom door, "I'm kind of tired. I might take a nap too. Wouldn't want you having to stay here being bored while we just sleep. That'd be rude, right?"

Judy allowed him to lead her toward the door and down the stairs, "I'll see you at school tomorrow then," she said as he practically pushed her out the front door.

"See ya," Doug called back and shut the door behind her.

She frowned. That was all pretty suspicious, but there was no definite proof that any of her suspicious were truths. Just because Doug had been defensive didn't mean his father really was guilty. Maybe he was really a nice guy who just made rude jokes. Maybe Doug was defending an innocent man... But even if the guy was abusive, she couldn't really help the boys if they wouldn't let her. She sincerely hoped their father wasn't hurting them, but if he was, she wanted to help put a stop to it. She'd definitely have to tell Fuller about this and keep an eye on them.

Sighing, she began her walk back toward the school where she had left her car. This case was about more than just drugs now...

_**xxxxxx**_

**_So if you guessed that Judy was a cop (which you probably did just based off her name...) you were right! I knew that would be transparent... They always use their real first names when they go undercover in the show, so I went ahead and let her be called Judy even though it would be obvious... Hopefully no one minds her being a minor character in this... I love Hoffs... I don't know how you guys feel about her, but I think she's lovely and sweet. ^_^ The story is about the McQuaid brothers (Hanson and Penhall) but there's no reason the other characters can't make an appearance... _  
**

**_Also, I realize that Tommy and Doug seem to be tired a lot. Remember that they are staying up pretty late most of the time and are likely somewhat depressed. Getting in physical fights all the time makes them pretty exhausted too.  
_**


	9. Chapter 9

_**Thank you all for your continued interest in this story. I hope you continue to be interested as I continue to write this continuously interesting interest that hopefully coincides with some of your interests. Here is the next chapter: **_

_**xxxxxx**_

Chapter9

Doug climbed up the stairs as quietly as he could, hoping his father hadn't heard Judy leave. If he still thought she was there, he might not bother them for a while. Maybe he wouldn't bother them at all tonight. They had behaved pretty well today. What could he possibly be angry with them about?

He indeed felt tired. The excuse he had given to Judy hadn't been a complete lie, but he knew if she hadn't asked about his father he wouldn't have demanded that she leave. She actually seemed pretty nice and he would have liked to be friends with her. But there was a reason the brothers didn't keep friends. And that reason was people like Judy. When you make friends with someone, they start to care about you. They notice when you're all bruised and cut up. They ask questions.

The McQuaid brothers didn't need that. If people became their friends and tried to help them, they would probably just make things worse. He'd rather just wait this out for another year than risk screwing up their lives even more than they already were. The last thing he'd want would be for him and Tommy to get separated, or for the police to not believe them, which would leave them with a father even more angry than usual.

His bedroom was right next to Tommy's. He slipped into it quietly, grabbing a pillow and blanket off his bed and then tip-toed back to his brother's room. He laid down on the floor next to Tommy's bed, but didn't fall asleep as fast as his brother had. Instead he just stared up at the ceiling.

"You asleep, Tommy?" he asked in a hushed whisper.

There was no answer. All he could hear was the quiet, rhythmic breathing of his brother up on the bed next to him. Doug pulled himself up and looked over at Tommy. He was lying on his side, likely because it would have hurt to lie on his back or front.

Doug wanted to see his brother's injuries again, to see if there was anything he could do to treat them. He wanted to clean off the dried blood that was surely covering his little brother's back, and bandage him up or something... But he didn't want to wake Tommy up when he seemed to be sleeping so peacefully. He wondered if Tommy was in pain right now. Was sleeping enough to drown it out? Or did he feel the angry red marks even in his dreams?

He sighed and stared up at the ceiling some more. Maybe he should have just told Judy the truth. She could probably guess it anyway. And it wasn't like she could do anything about it. She was just some girl he barely knew. Maybe her father had hit her too. Maybe that's why her parents had divorced. Maybe the reason she had brought it up was because she could relate to the situation...

But what if she didn't know what Tommy and Doug were going through at all? What if she was one of those sensitive types who would feel obligated to try to make this right? She might tell school counselors or police... It was probably best that he hadn't said anything to her.

Things weren't too bad right now. Sure, their father was pretty rough with them, but at least they still had some good times. They got to leave the house all day to go to school, where no one would dare try to fuck with them... And of course the two brothers would always have each other. Why mess that up? Maybe putting up with their father was just the price they had to pay for having the luxury of being so close as brothers. Everything had a price, right? Brothers who didn't get hurt all the time and who didn't have to constantly look after each other as though they were in some war zone probably weren't bonded so closely...

Doug closed his eyes and continued thinking. Sometimes they could go a few days or even a full week without their father hitting them. He'd usually yell at them at least once a day, but sometimes things weren't so bad. The past few days had been rough, but he tried to remember it wouldn't always be like this.

He could feel himself falling asleep. His thoughts were becoming slower and his body was relaxing. His back, where his father's belt had created welts, kind of hurt since he was lying on it, but as long as he didn't move around much it wasn't so bad. So he stayed perfectly still and was soon asleep.

...

Doug didn't know how long he had been sleeping, but he was awakened by the sound of his father coming up the stairs. He was saying something that Doug hadn't caught the beginning of. And he was too disoriented from sleep to comprehend even the last bit that he had heard.

Sitting up, Doug stared at the door as his father opened it. He could hear Tommy pulling himself up on the bed behind him with a small gasp. Doug reached back and grabbed his brother's leg, squeezing it lightly, silently promising him that he wasn't going to let their father do anything to him.

"Hi, kids," their father smiled. He didn't look angry at all. That was a good sign, "your girlfriend leave?"

Doug nodded. Even when their father was in a good mood, his voice still carried a condescending tone.

"Well, I'm going out drinking with Jim," their dad informed them.

For a moment, Doug's heart sank. He knew how his easily his father's moods changed, and when he was drunk, it was even worse. He really didn't want to deal with his drunk father tonight. But his worries vanished as soon as his father continued.

"I left some money on the table if you want to order pizza or somethin," his father added, "I'm staying at Jim's house. Don't do anything you wouldn't do with me here," he looked at Doug and then at Tommy, his facial expression looking quite threatening.

Doug nodded, "Okay," he agreed.

Their father smiled but then looked confused and let out a bit of a chuckle, "what the hell are you guys doing in here? It's six o'clock in the afternoon... You having a mid-afternoon slumber party?"

"We were just taking a nap," Doug told him, hoping his father wouldn't somehow take offense to that. He had been trying to speak as little as possible. If he didn't say anything, his father couldn't be offended by his words.

"You kids get weirder and weirder every fuckin' day," the man laughed as he turned and walked down the stairs. They heard the front door open and close, and their father was gone.

Doug felt a wave of relief wash over him. He turned around to face his brother who was smiling and looking much happier than Doug had seen him look in quite a while.

"What's up with him?" Tommy wondered.

Doug laughed, "who cares? He left us money for pizza... That's all I need to know."

Tommy smiled, "we have the whole house."

"Things are lookin' up, aren't they, Little Brother?" Doug jumped onto Tommy's bed and wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders, almost knocking the younger boy backward in his excitement.

"Well, I'm going to go downstairs and order the pizza. I'm starving," Tommy informed him, standing up and then turning around to face his brother who was still sitting on the bed, "what do you want on it?" he asked.

"Everything," Doug grinned.

Tommy grinned as well, and then turned and left the room.

Doug sat on the bed for a moment. He couldn't believe their good fortune. Now he was very glad he hadn't told anyone about what their father had done to them that morning. At the time, he had felt like he really needed to get Tommy and himself out of there as soon as he could. He didn't know how much more he could take, and certainly thought his little brother was probably nearing a breaking point. But everything seemed like it was going to be okay now. They were at their lowest point that morning, but now they were past it. Everything would be okay.

He stood up and made his way down the stairs, smiling when he saw his brother still looking so happy. He wanted to ask him if he could see his back now, to make sure he wasn't too badly hurt, yet he didn't want to bring his brother's attention back to that. Of course, it was probably at the back of his mind anyway, since he could likely feel it constantly.

"Twenty to thirty minutes," Tommy smiled up at him.

Doug made it completely down the stairs now and followed his little brother over to the couch which sat in front of a small television. He sat down next to Tommy, who was already flipping through channels.

"Tommy," Doug turned toward his brother and hesitated.

Keeping his eyes glued to the screen, Tommy responded, "what?"

"You feeling okay?" Doug finally asked, "from this morning, I mean..."

Tommy shrugged, "It stings," he admitted, still not moving his eyes away from the television, "there's not much than can be done about that. I'll be okay. I always am."

Doug frowned, "can I see?" he asked. He had already seen his brother's injuries that morning, right after they had been created by his father's belt. They had looked pretty painful then.

"Only if I can see yours first," Tommy finally turned to face his brother.

Doug sighed, "fine," he agreed, pulling his shirt up over his head and throwing it across the room. He turned around so that his brother could see the seven welts cross-crossed over his back.

"Let's go into the kitchen," Tommy suggested, "I can't really see that well in here in the dark."

Doug nodded, stood up and followed his brother into the kitchen. He then turned back around so his brother could see what he was here to see.

He felt Tommy's fingers touch his skin lightly, carefully tracing one of the lines his father had made on Doug's back, "it looks like it hurts," Tommy commented. His voice was small.

"It does," Doug told him, "but at least I was wearing a shirt. Yours probably hurt worse."

"I don't know," Tommy sounded indifferent, "mine aren't too bad." Doug knew he was lying. Half of the marks their father had made on him were actually bleeding. There was no way they 'weren't too bad,' as Tommy had put it.

"Let me see," Doug demanded, turning around to face his little brother.

Tommy shrugged and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it carelessly on the kitchen counter.

Doug looked down at his brother's chest. There was one long mark stretching over his Tommy's skin. This one wasn't bleeding, but it still looked painful. Another one was over his ribs, stretching around out of sight onto his back. Doug reached over and put his hand on Tommy's shoulder, and then turned his brother around.

His back looked much worse than his chest, and certainly looked more painful than Doug's back felt. It looked like there were about ten long marks on his brother's back. He wasn't going to take the time to count them, so he just estimated. Four of them were covered in dried blood. He wondered if his father had been extra angry for those four. Had he hit him harder on purpose? Had he wanted to see his son bleed, or had it happened just by chance. Doug frowned.

"I think it looks worse than it actually is," Tommy finally broke the silence, looking over his shoulder at Doug. He looked kind of nervous, like he was worried what his brother might be thinking.

Doug didn't ask him if he could wipe the dried blood away. He figured his brother probably wouldn't let him if he asked, but if he just started doing it, maybe the younger boy wouldn't protest... Instead of asking, he just took a cloth from below the sink, soaked it with water from the tap, and set to work. Surprisingly, Tommy just stood still, not objecting at all.

"How long do you think he'll be gone?" Tommy asked.

Doug shrugged. He kept his eyes on his little brother's back as he gently dragged the wet cloth over one of the red marks, "I don't know. He'll probably be hung over in the morning. I hope he doesn't come back home before we leave for school."

"I wish we could know how long he'd be away," Tommy sounded disappointed, "It would be nice to be able to sleep in, knowing he wouldn't come back and wonder why we aren't at school. But I don't think we should risk it."

"I don't either," Doug agreed. He heard his brother's breath hitch and felt him jerk away from him slightly, "sorry," he added, placing his hand on Tommy's shoulder and squeezing it lightly.

"Are they still bleeding," Tommy wondered, trying to look over his shoulder.

"Not really," Doug answered, "As long as you don't move around really harshly they probably won't bleed anymore. But maybe you should wear a dark shirt tomorrow, just in case."

Tommy nodded, "okay," he agreed.

"I'm sorry I didn't get to you sooner," Doug frowned as he cleaned the last bit of dried blood off his brother's skin, "I should have stayed in your room with you last night. I figured we'd be able to sneak out before he even knew we had been there... If I had known-"

"Stop it, Doug," Tommy turned around and faced him, "you shouldn't feel bad for what he does. You didn't do it. He did. There was no way you could have known what he was going to do. You have no reason to feel bad."

Doug frowned, "I know... It's just that I know what he's like by now... I try to anticipate what he's going to do so I can work around it and be ready..."

"You can't read his mind, Doug," Tommy reminded him.

"I know," Doug sighed.

"Then cheer up," Tommy clapped him on the shoulder and smiled up at him.

Seeing his brother's smile made him feel happy. He loved to see Tommy smile. So Doug smiled back and decided to change the subject, "so what did you think of Judy?" he asked, entirely unsure of what his brother's answer would be. He hadn't seemed to like her when they met her earlier today. But Tommy had also been in an understandably sour mood. He was exhausted and had welts and blood hidden under his clothing. No matter who had approached him at that very moment, the boy probably wouldn't have liked them.

Tommy shrugged, "she's pretty, I guess. A little forward, asking to buy drugs five seconds after she met you... But whatever gets us money's fine with me. As long as she doesn't narc on us or nothin'."

"She doesn't seem like she would," Doug hoped he was right. It was just marijuana. The worst they'd get for that was a fine, which would be unfortunate, but not the end of the world.

Tommy shrugged, "Well, she bought it. She could get in trouble too, if she told anyone," he picked up the shirt he had been wearing earlier and pulled it back over his head. He didn't seem to care that there was blood on the back of it. Doug hoped that blood would wash out, because the shirt wasn't Tommy's. It was Doug's.

The two boys made their way back into the living room, where the television was still illuminating the area. They sat down on the couch and both stared ahead at the screen.

Tommy yawned and leaned back, stretching his arms up and his legs outward. He looked so much more relaxed than usual. Doug felt exactly how his brother looked, carefree. Things weren't always perfect. In fact, things often sucked, but right now everything was okay.

Doug picked up the remote that was lying between them and flipped through the channels. He looked up when he heard a knock at the door. The boys didn't even have to argue about who was going to answer it like they usually would have. Tommy was up immediately. He grabbed the money off the table and answered the door as Doug continued to flip through the television channels.

Settling on an action movie that was already half-way over, Doug set the remote down on the coffee table.

"I ordered Pepsi too," Tommy informed him as he walked over and placed the pizza and soda on the table, "Dad left enough money for both."

...

They finished the pizza rather quickly. Tommy had only two slices, and since he didn't want any more, Doug went ahead and ate the rest. He was more hungry than his brother, which was usually the case.

Now they just sat on the sofa and watched the movie. Since they had started it in the middle, Doug wasn't really sure what it was about. There were a lot of explosions and the characters yelled at each other a lot. It seemed like a war movie, but he wasn't sure which war. It didn't really matter though. He didn't figure they'd watch it for long. Doug felt pretty tired, and he knew Tommy probably felt the same way.

"You feel okay?" Doug asked, glancing over at Tommy. He was still worried about his brother, "you're not sick, are you?"

Tommy looked over at him and yawned, "I'm not sick. Why would you think I was?" He leaned his head back against the back of the couch and looked through tired eyes back at Doug.

Shrugging, Doug responded, "you just didn't eat that much. I was wondering if you were feeling sick. You slept in the river the other day... I thought maybe you could have caught a cold or could have a fever or something."

Tommy shrugged as well, "I feel fine," he said, "tired, but otherwise fine."

Doug nodded, "okay," he smiled.

They both turned their attention back toward the television. There was a man on screen firing a gun at someone or something off camera. In the background, grenades were exploding and other actors were yelling.

"Are these the good guys or the bad guys?" Doug wondered.

He looked over at Tommy who just shrugged and closed his eyes.

Doug smiled and looked back at the screen. He still didn't know what was going on. Now there was a different guy on screen. He looked very dirty and was whispering something to someone else. Doug looked back over at his brother, "you asleep?" he asked in a soft voice.

Tommy didn't answer.

Reaching over toward his brother, Doug placed his hand lightly on Tommy's forehead. Tommy must have really been asleep. If he was awake, he would have swatted Doug's hand away by now. His head didn't feel warm. Hopefully this meant he hadn't lied and he really wasn't sick.

Doug continued looking over at his little brother for a moment. He looked very peaceful. Even with the bruises on his face, he still looked comfortable and relaxed. This moment made Doug feel a lot better about their situation. For every moment of pain in their lives, there was a moment like this where everything was alright. As long as they had times like these to balance everything out, they just might be able to last long enough for Doug to turn eighteen so they could get out of here together. For the first time in quite a while, they were going to be able to sleep soundly without having to worry about anything at all.

_**xxxxxx**_

_**You may think Mr. McQuaid is out of character in this chapter, but everyone has their good moments and bad. Mr. McQuaid really does love his sons on some level. He's just kind of a jerk and has very strict rules and extremely harsh punishments for breaking those rules. Even he isn't pissed off 24-7.**_

_**Just think about your own parents. Are they always mad at you? Probably not. Are they always happy with you? Probably not... Whether your parents are mean or nice, their moods probably fluctuate. Mr. McQuaid is having a good day...**_


	10. Chapter 10

**_Thanks for hanging in there. :) I'm having a lot of fun with this story, so I hope you're all still enjoying it too. I wrote the whole thing before I posted any of it, but I've been editing it as I go... Sometimes a chapter is around 2,000 words and ends up being over 3,000 words by the time I'm through editing it... So even though I've got the skeleton all written out already, there still is a lot of work to be done before publishing it. Was that information anyone cared to know? Probably not. But I said it. It's done. Now you know. Unless you skip my intros, which you might... I sometimes skip intros by other writers...  
_**

**_Okay then... Here's the next chapter. Enjoy:  
_**

**_xxxxxx  
_**

Chapter10

Tommy had woken up early enough to actually get himself and his brother to school on time today. He and Doug had both fallen asleep earlier than usual, so waking up early was no problem for either of them.

After they had eaten their pizza, the two brothers watched a movie on television. Tommy could barely even remember the plot. The events in the film hadn't been important. The television was really only on as background noise. Maybe Doug had been paying attention to it, but Tommy hadn't. He had just been so tired. The next thing he had known, it was the next morning, the sun was up, and he was waking up from a very peaceful slumber against his big brother's arm. He wondered if Doug had known his little brother was lying on him. Maybe he had shifted some time during the night. It didn't really matter. If Doug had known, he didn't seem to have minded it.

The two brothers sat in the cafeteria now. They were half-way through the day, which was good, in a way but at the same time Tommy sort of wished the school day could be longer. Neither of them really wanted to go home. What if their dad was back and in a bad mood? If the man had drank a lot, he'd probably still have a hang over. That would mean he'd be easier than usual to bother. Any little thing Doug or Tommy did might set him off if he was already in a sore mood. He decided to push those thoughts out of his head for now. Worrying about it wouldn't do any good. For the time being, everything was okay.

Tommy sucked the last bit of his chocolate milk out through his straw, squished the carton in his hand and threw it on top of his lunch tray. He glanced over at Doug who was pouring cheetos into his mouth as though he was in some sort of race. Tommy raised his eyebrows as he stared at his older brother, who was in the process of making a horrendous mess. There were cheetos on his shirt, on his pants, and on the floor at his feet. Doug certainly could eat like a slob sometimes... Or rather, always... But Tommy didn't really mind. He wasn't the one who had to sweep up the cafeteria after lunch, so it didn't really make much of a difference to him.

Tommy looked up as he heard a familiar voice, "hey," it was Judy, and she was walking toward them. Why was she being so clingy? People normally wouldn't come near the brothers if they could avoid it. Maybe Doug had been too nice. Sure, she was a girl, and they were nicer to girls, but they still didn't make _friends_ with them. He was beginning to think this girl might become a problem.

"You stalkin' us or somethin?" Tommy asked.

"Hey, Judy," Doug sighed. He forced a smile as he dragged his sleeve across his chin to get rid of the cheeto residue. He sounded like he didn't really want to talk to her right now but was doing so anyway, just to be nice. That was weird. Doug didn't usually do things just to be nice. He might for Tommy, but not for some girl he barely knew. Did he actually like her or something? Tommy narrowed his eyes and looked over at his brother. He didn't look like he was in love. In fact, he looked kind of sick, like the idea of her coming over to their table made him want to vomit. Of course, that could have just been the cheetos; After all, he had torn through the bag of chips as fast as a starving dog would have. But his horrendous eating habits never made him sick before, so it must have been Judy instead. Maybe he had been in love with her face but didn't like her personality so much anymore. Maybe he thought she was being too clingy too.

"Sorry about yesterday," she said, pouting and shrugging slightly as she looked at Doug. She looked down at her fingers as she wrapped them around each other nervously. She then put her hands at her sides, but her fingers were still twitching. Finally, she settled on stuffing her hands into her pockets.

"Why?" Tommy jumped in. What was she talking about? Doug hadn't mentioned anything she'd have a reason to be sorry about, "what happened yesterday?"

Her shoulders slumped, "I... well, I was talking to your brother, and I guess I asked too many personal questions... I just..."

"It's okay," Doug assured her before she could elaborate, "don't worry about it."

She sat down across the table from them, "so, I'm going to a party tonight," she informed them, "I don't really know people here that well... It might be more fun if you guys came along."

"You don't know us either," Tommy narrowed his eyes at her.

"Well, I know you guys more than I know most people at this school," she looked down, like her feelings had been hurt, "you don't have to come," she added, "I just thought it might be fun. I mean, you guys seem nice, and I'm not going to know most of the kids there, so it would be easier for me if you were there. But I understand if you don't want to go."

"Who all's going to be there?" Doug asked, "I mean, is this a balloons and cake kind of party? Or a beer and cocaine kind of party?"

Judy laughed, "Well, Samantha Norris invited me," she explained, "Derek Moore will be there... and uh... Jake something - I don't know his last name... um... Karl - I don't know his last name either... Maria Suarez, and um... Well, probably just a lot of the people they hang out with," she frowned, "I don't know everyone well enough to really answer your question. But I don't think there will be balloons or cake. I can tell you that much."

Tommy looked over and met Doug's eyes. Karl Harrison was a senior who often supplied them with drugs to re-sell. Tommy had been meaning to restock his dwindling supply, and knew Doug was running low too. Karl was friends with Derek Moore, so Tommy knew that was probably the same Karl Judy was referring to. Going to the party might be worthwhile. It could also prove fun to terrorize the rest of the students there too. He gave Doug a slight nod.

"We'll go," Doug agreed, "where is it?"

"Derek's house," she answered, "it starts at eight o'clock. His parents are out of town for a few days. You know where his house is? I'm just having Sam drive me, so I don't know the address."

"We know where it is," Tommy answered. They had been there before.

"Cool," Judy smiled, "I'll see you guys there then."

Tommy offered a mocking smile back, but he wasn't sure she saw it. Still smiling, she stood up and walked off.

"God," Tommy sighed, looking over at Doug, "What did you say to her yesterday to make her think we're best friends all of a sudden?"

Doug sighed, "We were talking about family," he laid his forehead down on the table with a thud, "Don't worry," he said into the table so that Tommy could barely hear him, "I didn't tell her anything. She must make friends with everyone she ever meets, because I wasn't even that nice to her. And you certainly weren't."

Tommy laughed, "Friends don't matter when you've got a hundred of them and don't really like any of them. She's hanging out with Samantha Norris? That really shows what kind of person she is."

Doug looked back up, "come on," he defended her, "she's new. She doesn't know who to hang out with yet. Give her a break."

"Well, she made a pretty good choice trying to hang out with us," Tommy grinned, "kind of... Too bad we're not interested."

...

Leaning against the wall, Tommy stood in the corner of the room in Derek Moore's house. He was sipping on his third beer and was silently watching people as they nervously avoided him. He didn't know where Doug had gone. Probably to pick up some cocaine from Karl; Tommy hadn't seen Karl in a while either. Sometimes it took a while to find someplace in the house where they could do business in private, so Tommy didn't really know how long it would take. Hopefully not too much longer. It was probably about ten o'clock now. If they didn't get home soon, their father wasn't going to be very happy with them.

A boy who Tommy hated particularly glanced over at him, wearing a judgmental expression on his face.

Tossing his mostly empty beer can harshly into the floor, Tommy pushed himself up from the wall he had been leaning against. He made himself appear to be ready to go over and slap the kid in the face. But he didn't even have to walk over to him. The boy averted his eyes immediately and promptly walked away. Tommy grinned.

He looked over across the room at a group of people who were smoking weed. That sounded pretty good about now. So he walked over. Leaning over the girl who was holding the cigarette they were passing around, he snatched it up and returned to his corner, ignoring the sounds of protest coming from the group. They had only just lit the cigarette, so it would still last him a while. There was also probably more where that came from.

Puffing on the cigarette, he continued watching everyone else. A few people were looking like they were pretty drunk by now. A boy and girl were making out in the corner across the room from him. He was pretty sure they were both pretty drunk, because they both looked like shit and probably would have never been interested in each other otherwise.

Tommy smiled when he finally saw his brother walking toward him, but frowned when he noticed how he was walking. He was stumbling a bit; he must have had more to drink than Tommy had.

"Did you get the stuff?" Tommy asked, keeping his voice low, but still being vague enough that it wouldn't matter much if anyone heard.

Doug nodded, "yep. Let's get outta here," he threw his arm over his little brother's shoulders and started leading him toward the front door. Tommy noticed Doug was leaning on him pretty heavily and was almost tripping over his own feet as he dragged them along.

"How much did you drink?" Tommy wondered, looking up at Doug. He wrapped his arm around Doug's waist in an attempt to keep him from falling down or stumbling off in some odd direction.

His brother shrugged, "not too many," he laughed, leaning against Tommy heavily enough to push him back a few steps, "uh... two? seven? I dunno. I'm less drunk than... uh..." he slurred, "I'm not as drunk as I feel," he offered a crooked smile, the same smile that let him off the hook quite often whenever he had done something stupid. Many people couldn't resist it. Their father could, but the rest of the world wasn't immune to it.

Tommy winced. Should he take his brother home like this? If their dad saw him and even suspected he was drunk, he'd be furious. He sighed, "maybe we should stay here for a little while, so you can sober up. It's still early... Sort of... One or two more hours probably wouldn't make dad too angry."

"Nah," Doug disagreed as he reached over and put his free hand on his brother's chest, pushing him slightly. He looked at Tommy with unfocused eyes, laughed at something unknown to his little brother, and then turned back toward the door, dragging Tommy along with him, "Like I said," he turned toward his brother again, pulled himself away from his brother's supportive grip, and put his hands on Tommy's shoulders, "I'm not really drunk. I might look like it, but it's because... I'm not. You just feel like you're drunk."

Tommy shook his head, "No...," he stared into Doug's eyes, "you do. I'm not drunk. You are."

"Yeah," Doug agreed, grinning a wide smile that showed all his teeth, "You are."

Tommy rolled his eyes and let Doug lead him out the front door. The older of the two almost stumbled down the stairs, but Tommy quickly grabbed onto him so he wouldn't fall, "Jeeze!" Tommy yelped, "watch out!"

And of course, Judy was standing right outside the house with a few other girls. Tommy wanted to scream. Why was she always everywhere?

"Hey, guys!" she called out, wearing her normal huge smile. What was she always so happy about? Why did she want to talk to them so often? Did she actually like Doug? Did he like her? They barely knew each other.

Tommy forced a very small, very fake smile, "hi," he muttered. Doug was leaning on him heavily again and he was putting most of his focus into keeping him from falling over.

"You leaving already?" Judy sounded disappointed.

"You wanna buy some coke?" Doug stumbled away from Tommy and toward her.

"He's joking," Tommy hissed as he reached forward and grabbed his older brother's arm, "come on, Doug. Let's get you home..." he didn't know if he'd really take him home, but he sure didn't want to stay here and have his brother trying to sell cocaine to everyone he happened to bump into. Most of the kids weren't into that and might be pretty freaked out by the offer. Maybe even freaked enough to tattle on them. Their customers for cocaine were pretty much the same group of people every time. They didn't need new customers, and if they did, they certainly wouldn't find them by asking everyone in sight if they were interested.

"No I'm not," Doug persisted, pulling a small bag of the very item he was advertising out of his front pocket, "got it right here. Fifty buck a pop," Doug informed her, "maybe forty for you," he raised his eyebrows and smiled at Judy.

Tommy elbowed his brother in the ribs, "put that away," he whispered, "she's not interested."

Judy looked nervous, "where did you get that?" she asked, "I mean, who gave it to you? Is it someone here at the party?"

Tommy narrowed his eyes, "what do you care?" Tommy snatched the bag away from his brother and stuffed it into his own pocket, "it's not for sale. Come on, Doug."

"Wait!" Judy called after him, running up and putting her hand on his shoulder.

"Listen," Tommy growled as he turned around and glared at her, "I've had enough of you following us around everywhere. You don't seem like the type who would be into this sort of stuff. And if you've never done it before, I wouldn't suggest you start now. Just forget it. Why are you looking for our supplier? You wanna get into the drug selling business? Because I don't think you'd be much good at it. It's dangerous, and you probably don't really need the money anyway. Just leave it to the screw-up poor kids like us."

"Will you please just tell me who it was?" she asked, looking desperate.

"Okay," Doug smiled. He opened his mouth to speak, but Tommy slapped his hand over it.

"Shut up, Doug," he scowled at him, "look at me," he waited until Doug was paying attention, "you cannot tell her. You can't tell anyone. It's not their business. Understand?"

Doug nodded.

Tommy turned back around to Judy who was holding her wallet up at him as if she was trying to show him something inside it. He pushed it down, not paying any attention at all, "Just lay off, okay? You barely know us. If you stop talking to us, it'll just be like we never met."

She pulled the wallet back up so he could see it, "Tommy, I'm a cop," she told him, frowning and not looking at all as happy and carefree as she usually did. In fact, she looked very disappointed.

He actually grabbed at the wallet now, holding it in his hands and staring at it. Sure enough, it was actually a police badge. It certainly looked real, but he couldn't believe the girl was actually a cop. How could she be? "are you for real?" he looked back at her. He still held the badge in his hands, "you're fucking with me, right? You're like eighteen years old..."

"I'm twenty three, Tommy," she informed him, reaching out and taking the badge back, "I assure you this is no joke."

Doug was completely silent. Either he was shocked, or he wasn't paying attention to what was going on.

"You takin' us to jail then, or what?" Tommy asked, feeling adrenaline rushing through him. They had been arrested before. It didn't happen often, but it wasn't something he was completely fearful of. Usually cops would just hold them for a few hours and slap them with a fine.

"If you tell me who gave you the drugs, you won't get in as much trouble," she told him.

"Well, we aren't going to tell you that," Tommy insisted, "we aren't narcs."

"Fine," she frowned, "Ioki!" she called out. Another boy appeared seemingly from nowhere. This kid had been in their detention the other day.

"He a cop too?" Tommy asked, nodding toward him, "Guess you can't trust no one," he frowned.

"H.T. Ioki," the boy - or rather, man - introduced himself, flashing his police badge as well.

"We're going to take you down to the station," Judy informed them, "we don't have to handcuff you if you'll be good. But you have to sit in the back. It's procedure. If you'd just tell us-"

"Well, we're not going to," Tommy interrupted, "where's your stupid car?" he asked, ready to get this all over with.

"Over here," she said, taking Tommy by the arm as Ioki walked around to Doug and led him in the same direction.

Tommy pulled away from her touch. He didn't need her holding on to him. He'd go with her willingly. He turned around and looked at the ever-growing crowd of kids watching this all unfold, "are there any more cops I should know about?" he yelled at the crowd.

"Come on, Tommy," Judy insisted, "don't make this difficult," she reached toward his arm again.

He pulled his arm away from her but continued walking with her.

"Maybe we should cuff them," Ioki suggested, "they seem kind of crazy. The little one at least. He might try to run off."

Tommy scowled at him, "I'm not little," he insisted, "and I won't run off. And don't you _dare_ cuff me." His wrists were still bruised and scratched up from when he had been trying to get out of the restraints his father had put him in. If they cuffed him, it would probably be painful. He also wasn't at all a fan having his hands locked up. He liked to be free to move around at all times if possible.

Ioki shrugged, "your call, Judy," he said to his partner.

"I want to trust you, Tommy," she said gently. Why was she so nice? She was a cop, and she was arresting him on drug charges. They usually weren't interested in trusting him, "just keep walking with me and don't give me a reason to think you need to be handcuffed, and we'll both be good. Okay?"

Tommy didn't say anything. He just kept walking with her. He agreed with her proposition, but wasn't going to tell her that.

"Don't tell them anything, Doug," Tommy looked at his brother, "understand?"

"Yeah," Doug agreed. Tommy hoped Doug had actually comprehended his brother's words. With him this drunk, he could say anything... Karl had been supplying them with drugs for about two years. He hadn't ever let them down, so they weren't going to let him down either. Not if Tommy could help it anyway. But who knew what Doug would end up saying...

_**xxxxxx**_

_**Ooooooh... things are getting pretty complicated now... What's going to happen! Ooooooooo aaaaaaaah! Woooaaah!  
**_


	11. Chapter 11

_**This is my longest chapter yet, and likely the longest one of the story. I thought about breaking it up into two chapters, but what use is there in that? Let's just start picking up the pace in posting this thing and getting it all out there so we can be done with it, right? I really hope you like this chapter. Here you go:**_

_**xxxxxx**_

Chapter11

Tommy laughed as they pulled up to what looked like an old chapel, "are you guys really cops?" he wondered, "I've been arrested before, and this isn't the police station. You gonna murder us or something?"

"We aren't like the other cops who you've dealt with," Ioki turned around and looked at the McQuaids, "We work undercover at schools, because we look young enough to be high school kids. So we're a different division than the cops who arrested you last time."

Tommy glared at him, "well, isn't that special?" he mocked.

Ioki laughed, "it is, kind of. I really like working here."

Scoffing, Tommy looked away and stared at the window at nothing in particular, "are we gettin' out or what?" The car wasn't a standard police car, but it functioned like one. He couldn't open the back door from the inside. And he didn't feel like sitting and waiting around forever. They might as well just get this over with.

"Just a second," Judy called back.

Ioki got out first and opened Doug's door, grabbing his arm and helping him out. Tommy looked over at him. He wished his brother wasn't drunk. It was making this ordeal much more frustrating and much more nerve racking than it had to be. If both brothers were in their right minds, this would be simple. They'd refuse to talk; they'd go home; their dad would smack them around... Then it would be done. But Tommy didn't know how it was going to go down this time.

He turned back toward his own door as Judy opened it. He climbed out and stood next to her, glaring at her, just daring her to try to grab onto his arm again.

She must have known better, because she allowed him to walk himself into the chapel. She was lucky he wasn't planning on trying to run off. He wondered how often she let criminals get away just because she was too nice. Or maybe she could somehow judge who was a real threat and who wasn't. Did this mean Tommy didn't seem at all threatening. He frowned. That wasn't what he had intended. Of course, he didn't want to be handcuffed and manhandled either.

Judy and Ioki led them inside and straight into a small room with bars instead of walls over most of it. It looked like a police station that some kids decided to make out of whatever resources they could find; not nearly as formal and scary as the police station he was used to.

Normal holding cells also had other prisoners. This one did not. Tommy figured these people must not have worked as hard as normal cops. Did they ever accomplish anything besides getting drug dealers in trouble for a minute? Tommy and Doug were going to keep selling drugs after this. Judy and Ioki had to know that... So what was the point of all this?

Judy was sitting at a desk across the room now. Ioki stood behind her. It looked like she was talking to someone on the phone, but Tommy couldn't hear what she was saying. There weren't any other cops in the building, but there were a few more desks, so there had to be others that worked there sometimes.

He turned around and looked at his older brother, who was lying on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. He hoped Doug would be closer to sober before their dad saw them next. He'd be angry already, and would be even more angry when he saw Doug if he was wasted.

Tommy felt nervous. He walked over to the bars, gripping them with his hands and looking over toward the two cops, "you guys aren't calling our dad, are you?" he asked, unable to keep the worry out of his tone.

Judy ignored him and continued talking into the phone too quietly for him to hear anything she was saying.

"Are you?" Tommy was beginning to actually sound frantic, "who are you talking to?" he called out. He was still ignored, "who's on the phone?" he practically yelled, grabbing the bars and squeezing them uselessly.

Ioki looked at him now, "shh," he ordered, "it's not your dad. We're calling our captain. So just relax."

Tommy scowled at him. Then he looked back down at his brother. Squatting next to him, he grabbed his chin in his hand and turned his face so that he was looking at Tommy, "Doug," he said, speaking slowly and clearly so his brother wouldn't miss anything, "you know how we have a lot of secrets?"

Doug nodded, "Yeah."

"You need to make sure to not talk about any of them. These people are cops. If you tell them anything about where we got the drugs, or about dad, we're going to be in a lot of trouble," Tommy reminded him, "understand?"

Doug laughed, offering his crooked smile again, "yeah," he answered.

"Just don't say anything at all," Tommy instructed, "don't say anything to anyone."

"Okay," Doug agreed.

Tommy sighed. He hoped Doug could remember that.

"Our captain's going to be here in a few minutes," Judy informed them as she walked over to the bars, "do you want us to call someone for you? Or we could let you call them yourself."

Tommy shook his head, "no."

"We're going to have to call your dad eventually. We can't just arrest teenagers and not tell their parents," Ioki added as he walked up beside his partner.

"Well, can we please put that off as long as possible?" Tommy asked, frowning.

"We'll wait," Judy offered, glancing over at Ioki for a moment and then looking back at Tommy, "but I don't know for how long. We can't put it off forever. He's going to have to be informed eventually."

"The longer we wait, the better," Tommy closed his eyes and pressed his forehead up against the cool bars.

"Ioki," he heard Judy address her partner, "could you go make us some coffee? I'd like to talk to Tommy alone for a minute."

"Sure," Ioki's voice responded.

Tommy opened his eyes, "what do you want?" he sighed.

"In our department we are more concerned with helping kids than getting them in trouble," she started, "we didn't bring you here just to make your lives more miserable. You have to realize that doing drugs isn't healthy, and associating with people who buy or sell them can be really dangerous. Even if you aren't actually doing the drugs yourself, it's not a safe hobby to pursue. We can't let you keep using them or selling them. It's irresponsible."

Tommy rolled his eyes, "okay..."

"But we didn't bring you here just to give you a fine and send you on your way. We're trying to help you and your brother, and we're worried about more than just drugs," she added, "I'm not the only one who's noticed that you guys look beat up all the time."

"We get into fights," Tommy explained, "with other students, and each other. You know our reputation. What's so surprising about that?"

Judy sighed loudly. She seemed like she was getting very tired of listening to him. Yet she continued talking, "I don't know what types of fights you get into, but I haven't seen many wrists that look like yours and his," she gestured toward Doug, "except on murder victims, rape victims, and victims of kidnappings. You know, people who would have been tied up for some reason," she raised her eyebrows and waited for him to try to offer some sort of explanation.

Tommy scowled, taking his hands down from the bars they were clutching and pulling his sleeves over his wrists, "well, we obviously haven't been murdered or kidnapped. And we haven't been raped. I assure you of that."

"So why do your wrists look like someone tied them up?" she asked, "if you guys don't tell us, we're just going to assume the worst. We're not trying to bully you. We want to help you. It sure looks like someone is hurting you, and it looks one-sided. If you're getting into fights at school where someone is tying your hands up, I don't think you're going to win."

He glared at her, "Well, I'm sorry to tell you that I don't make notes on every scratch and bruise I ever get. I don't know where each one came from. We get into fights. That's it. That's the only answer you'll get, because that's all there is to say. We don't need any help."

The both turned their attention toward someone new who was walking into the room. Tommy's heart sank when he saw that it was Mr. Morris, the substitute teacher who had been weaseling his way into their lives over the past week. He hadn't been too fond of the man at first, and this sure as hell wasn't making it any better.

"Woah!" Tommy heard Doug's voice behind him. Doug grabbed onto his little brother's arm and pulled himself to his feet, "Mr. Morris! You bailing us out. man?" he laughed.

Tommy elbowed him in the ribs, "he's a cop too," he muttered, catching on much faster than his drunk older brother.

Morris walked up to the bars and held up his badge to show them he really was a cop, "Captain Adam Fuller," he introduced himself. He turned toward Judy and Ioki, "Hoffs, Ioki, have you called their dad?"

"They want to wait a little while longer. Doug's pretty drunk and they don't want their father to see him like this," Judy told him. She seemed nervous, like she wasn't sure her captain would be willing to play along with waiting to call the man, "I don't think it will hurt anything to wait a little while..." she added, biting her lip as though she had just requested something very important from a king who would likely deny her request.

Fuller nodded, "we can wait a bit longer. I wouldn't want their father seeing him like this either," Judy actually breathed out a sigh of relief as he said this. The captain narrowed his eyes as he looked back toward Doug and Tommy, "We know your drug supplier is someone at that party. There are cops back at the house questioning and searching everyone there. If you tell us who it is, it can make our job easier, and we'll go easier on you in consideration of your cooperation. We're going to find whoever it is eventually, and we won't tell them it was you who told us. They'll just think we checked everyone and found them on our own. There are no negative consequences that would be a result of you coming forward with a name."

"I know who it is," Doug said from behind Tommy.

"Shut up," Tommy elbowed him in the ribs again, but kept his eyes on Fuller.

"I understand that you don't want to betray this person," the police captian explained, "but you have to realize that we are not going to allow drugs to keep circulating around your school. We don't allow drugs anywhere, and we certainly won't make that exception to a bunch of teenagers."

"I don't expect you to," Tommy informed him, "but I'm not doing your job for you either. You want to find out who's selling us drugs, then find out. That's what they pay you for, isn't it?"

Fuller laughed, but he didn't look amused, "fair enough. Looks like we've got nothing to talk about then... You want us to call your dad for you?"

Tommy held his breath and felt his heart rate increase, "yeah. Go ahead and call him," he set his mouth in a straight line. If this guy wanted to play it that way, then he'd let him. He wasn't a narc, and if he had to get beaten up for it, then he would.

...

Fuller felt like he was in a staring contest with this kid. He had threatened to call his dad, but he wasn't going to. He wasn't stupid. He had worked with kids who were being abused. He had worked with tons of them. Recognizing the signs was easy, and these boys were obvious abuse victims.

They seemed scared of their father and had bruises that were not consistent with those they would have gotten from regular school-yard fights. They also seemed incredibly defensive whenever confronted about it. He hoped he could get them to accept help, because getting them away from the man without their cooperation was going to be next to impossible.

Dealing with abuse victims who did not want his help was nothing new to him. It was sometimes difficult and always frustrating, but he always worked as hard as he could to get them to see there was no good reason to stay with someone who was hurting them.

"Could I talk to you alone for a minute?" he asked the boy.

Tommy shook his head, "no," he scowled.

"Come on," Fuller said, "I can't make you talk, but you're at least going to listen," he opened the door to the cell and reached toward the boy's shoulder so he could lead him into the other room.

Tommy flinched away, "just lead the way," he suggested, "I'll follow you."

Fuller nodded, easily accepting this. If the kid didn't want to be touched, that was fine.

He led Tommy into a room they used for interrogations, holding the door open for him and closing it behind them.

"Have a seat," he offered, noting that Tommy wouldn't sit down until Fuller did as well. He looked over at the boy, who stared back at him angrily. But he could see a tint of fear in his eyes as well.

"What's the plan, Coach?" Tommy glared at him, folding his arms over his chest and swinging his feet up onto the table.

Fuller frowned. He could see that Tommy was putting up a front, trying to look tough and brave, but knew the boy must have been terrified on the inside, "I'm going to talk, and you're going to listen," Fuller offered, "And I'm going to ask you some questions that I hope you'll answer."

"Can't make any promises on either of those," Tommy raised his eyebrows and stared.

"I've dealt with a lot of boys just like you," Fuller started, folding his hands on the table between them, "boys who have run their lives into a corner and feel like there's no way out. It's not too late for you to turn things around, and no matter what you think is standing in your way, I can almost guarantee you're wrong."

Tommy just stared at him. He looked like he thought Fuller was a clueless idiot, but he didn't speak up to argue or to contradict him.

"My officers and I really want to help you and your brother. We're trying our hardest, but no matter how hard we try, we can't really do anything if you won't let us," Fuller explained, "In class, I saw marks on you and your brother. Marks that were very disturbing, and that didn't look at all accidental." He looked down at Tommy's wrists.

Tommy furrowed his brow and looked down at his own wrists as well, quickly pulling his sleeves down so that they covered most of his hands.

Fuller continued. He hadn't asked Tommy any actual questions yet, because he knew the boy wouldn't answer them. So for now, he settled on just laying out everything he already knew without any real input from the younger McQuaid brother, "Your brother had blood stains on the front of his shirt. You had a mirror image of the exact stain on the back of your shirt."

The boy stared at him still.

"You and I both know what's going on. You know because you're living through it, and I know because I can make an educated guess," Fuller explained, "It's not fair to you or your brother for you to keep quiet about this."

Now Tommy looked offended, "maybe you don't know the whole story. Maybe you're making assumptions and don't understand at all," he said, obviously trying to keep his voice calm even though a slight tremor made its way into his tone.

"Then please feel free to fill me in," Fuller suggested.

"No," Tommy frowned.

"Can you at least tell me why you'd want to protect someone who is hurting you?" Fuller asked.

"I'm not," Tommy scowled, "I'm protecting myself, and my brother."

"How are you protecting each other by letting each other get hurt?" Fuller wondered. His voice was increasing in volume. He didn't want to yell at this kid who probably already got yelled at more than enough at home. But he wanted the boy to understand where he was coming from. No matter how many kids like this he talked to, it still frustrated him when he was trying his best to help someone who just wouldn't let him.

"Let me spell this out for you," Tommy was still glaring, but now leaning forward slightly. His voice was increasing in volume as well, "no one is hurting us. But if someone was, and we said anything about it, what would happen to us? We'd get sent off somewhere. We'd get separated. We'd go to some run down troubled teens home or to some molester foster parents who would hate us, because we're too old. Foster parents molest and beat their kids even when they are young and cute, so how the fuck do you think we'd do in a place like that? If we even made it that far... We'd probably end up in juvie within a month."

"I'd make sure that doesn't happen," Fuller explained to him. The boy had pretty much just admitted that he and his brother were being abused. Yet his 'hypothetical' story wouldn't be enough for Fuller to work with. He needed Tommy to be clear in his acceptance of the captain's help. It wasn't enough for Fuller to know what was going on. He needed the boys' cooperation, "I've had kids your age come to me for help, and I keep an eye on them still, even years later. I still check in on them, and they are all fine. I would never send a kid off with people I wasn't sure about. And I sure as hell don't just send them off and forget about them. You're right that some foster homes aren't the best, but if you let me help you, I'm not going to let you go anyplace that isn't safe."

Tommy shook his head, "I think we'll just wait this out. Doug's gonna be eighteen in less than a year. Then we can move out."

"You can't," Fuller raised his eyebrow, "your brother isn't going to be granted custody of you just because he's eighteen."

Tommy's eyes were wide. He hesitated for a moment, "Then we'll live together anyway. And if Dad objects, we'll flee the country, or something..."

Fuller sighed, "will you please let me help you? I won't let you get separated from your brother. I'll make sure you're okay with wherever you end up living. You could live with relatives if they'll have you... We'll work something out."

Tommy shook his head, "no," he insisted, "there's nothing wrong. We don't need your help."

Fuller took a business card out of his wallet, "I'm going to give you my phone number," he offered, "please don't throw it away. I'm not saying you've got to ever use it, but I want you to keep it. And if you ever feel like you or your brother is in danger, for any reason at all, I want you to call me. My offer will still stand forever. If you ever need help, I'm willing to be the one to give it," he slid the card across the table so that it was in front of Tommy.

The boy looked down at the card. He looked worried and quite conflicted, but he reached out and took the card, stuffing it into his pocket and then looking back up at Fuller.

"Is your father expecting you back home any time soon?" Fuller asked. He didn't want to call their father while Doug was as drunk as he was currently. Even if the boys weren't willing to let him help them, he would still do what little he could to keep them safe.

"No," Tommy shook his head, "he doesn't know when we're coming home. We haven't seen him since yesterday afternoon. But the later we come back, probably the more angry he'll be. But if we come home and Doug is drunk, he'll probably be even more angry," his eyes went wide again, as if he'd just let some big secret slip out, "I mean... You know how dads are... I'm sure your dad would be mad if you got drunk too... When you were in high school, I mean."

"Yes," Fuller agreed, "he would have been furious. That's why I made sure to keep that fact from his as best as I could."

Tommy narrowed his eyes, "_you_ got drunk while you were in high school? Are you joking? Is this one of those things where cops try to relate to you so you'll confide in them? Because it's not going to work..."

"No," Fuller laughed, "I'm not pulling any tricks here. I really did get drunk in high school. I did all sorts of crazy things. I still do drink from time to time. You can break the law and still grow up to lead a productive life. You and your brother seem like very caring boys. You've got very high defensive walls built up, but I can tell you're good people. You'll end up being okay if you let yourselves."

"I'll deal with that option later," Tommy frowned, "I'm gonna keep being an irresponsible criminal for now," he smiled slightly.

Fuller raised his eyebrows, "I'm going to talk to your brother," he said, "you keep that card, and remember to call the number if you need any help with anything at all."

"Oh? Anything at all? You gonna do my homework for me?" Tommy grinned, "I'd get better grades if I had help with that."

"Tommy," Fuller looked at him, "if you ever want help with your homework, come on over to the chapel and we'll see what we can do. Mind you, we won't do it for you, but surely someone around here will know how to help."

Tommy rolled his eyes, "don't interrogate my brother like you just did with me. That's not fair. Anything he says can't be taken seriously, and you know it. He's so drunk he doesn't know what's going on. He might say our dad is a were wolf, but that doesn't mean it's true. He's probably going to say all sorts of stupid stuff..."

"We'll see," Fuller stood up and opened the door, holding it open for Tommy as he walked over to the cell where his brother was being held, "Doug," Fuller called out, "could I talk to you for a minute, son?"

Doug nodded, stumbling out of the cell as Fuller opened the door. Maybe talking to him while he was drunk wasn't such a good idea after all. He might tell them who sold him the drugs, but even if he admitted Tommy and he were being abused by their father, that admission wasn't really going to matter if he sobered up and denied it. What kind of a judge was going to take teenagers away from their parent when the teenagers insisted the parent was a swell guy?

"Come on," he ordered, putting his arm around Doug's back and leading him toward the room where he and Tommy had just talked. Doug was already seeming a little less drunk than when he'd come in, but was definitely not sober, "stay right here. I'm going to get you some water."

He grabbed a bottle of water from the small fridge they kept in the chapel. Maybe it would help the boy to not have a hangover. He walked back, slid the water over to Doug and then sat down across the table from him.

"What do ya want to talk about, Mr. Morris?" Doug asked, plopping himself heavily down onto the chair where his brother had been sitting.

"It's Fuller," the captain reminded him, "remember? I was working undercover as a teacher at your school, but I'm actually a police captain. Adam Fuller."

"Ooooh," Doug nodded, "Yeah... I remember now. Adam Fuller. Captain. You wanted to know about drugs. But I won't tell you," he leaned forward, "it's a secret," he whispered.

Fuller looked at him. He looked much more at ease about all this than his brother had, "I know nothing you say is really going to matter at this point, but I'm going to talk to you and see if any of this will stick and help you out later."

Doug widened his eyes and leaned forward even more, making sure to show Fuller than he had his full attention, "okay. Go."

Fuller felt a smile tugging at his lips, but he made sure not to let it form on his face. This was serious, no matter how Doug was acting, "you and your brother are in a pretty serious situation, and you need help, whether you'll admit it or not," Fuller started.

"Nah," Doug interrupted, leaning back in his chair, "we've been arrested before. You weren't there, but it's happened. Don't get mad," he started, looking around himself as if there may be some hidden person listening in on them, "but the other cops seemed more serious... Like, we went to an actual police station and everything. The cops were cops instead of high school students and you... It was completely real. And it was more than once. Of all the times I was arrested, this one seems the best. So this is nothin. We'll be fine."

"That's not what I was referring to," Fuller explained, "I don't expect you to tell the truth, and if you do, I don't know what I'll do with it, but I know something's going on at your house to result in you boys being injured every day. Each day I saw you at the school, you had more injuries than the day before. And I can see some of those injuries point toward the possibility that someone at home is hurting you."

Doug frowned, "I do my best," he said.

Fuller narrowed his eyes, "what?" he asked, not sure what the boy was trying to say.

"I try to make sure Tommy doesn't get hurt," he was still frowning, "I do what I can... But there's only so much I can do. I think Dad loved Mom. He was really in love with her, you know? And when she died, he just kinda lost it. Tommy looks more like Mom. I look more like Dad. Do you think Tommy looks at me and sees Dad and hates me?" he looked like he was ready to cry. So much for him being a happy drunk...

"I'm sure he loves you," Fuller assured him, "you're his big brother. He probably looks up to you and respects you more than anyone else in the world ever could. It doesn't matter who you resemble. And he's counting on you to make sure he stays safe."

"I know," Doug threw his hands over his eyes and sighed loudly, "but life's a lot more complicated than... ugggghh! We don't know what to do... There's a lot of possibilities, you know? What's going to happen no matter what we do? And we can't know for sure! It's all just a damn guessing game."

Fuller narrowed his eyes and nodded. Though the kid wasn't speaking entirely coherently, he thought he understood what he was trying to convey, "the smartest thing for you to do would be to sober up and talk to your brother. Explain to him that everything will be okay if you let me do my job and help get you two out of there. I can make sure you get to stay together. I won't let anyone split you up, and I won't let you get sent somewhere bad. I promise you that."

Doug looked at him. He had tears in his eyes, "my dad's going to be so mad at us."

"If you let me, I can make sure he doesn't do anything to you or your brother," Fuller told him, "but if you're just going to sober up and deny everything you're saying right now, it's going to all be for nothing. If I go to your house and tell him I'm taking his kids away, and then tomorrow you two go back, he's probably going to be even more angry. I need you to be sure you want my help and be sure you're not going to back down before I do anything."

"I think we can stick it out a little bit longer," Doug told him, "Tommy and I are leaving when I turn eighteen."

"When you're eighteen, you're still going to be a kid. Any job you get is still going to pay minimum wage. You won't be any more ready to live on your own then than you are right now. It's possible that you and Tommy will be able to scrape by, but why not take help when it's offered to you?" Fuller wondered, "I can assure you that you'll be okay."

Doug shook his head, "I think this is one of the things Tommy told me not to talk to you about," he frowned, "can I go back to the cell now?"

"Captain?" Ioki opened the door and peaked his head inside, "I just got a call from Kincaid. They found a nineteen year old kid at the party who had over six hundred dollars in cash on him and quite a bit of coke and weed. Karl Harrison. They gave fines to a few other kids who had drugs on them, but they didn't have much. And of course they confiscated all the drugs."

"Karl's nineteen?" Doug turned around and looked at Ioki, who smiled at him but otherwise ignored him.

"Should we call their father?" Ioki asked, "we can just give them a fine for possession and underage drinking. We could test their blood alcohol content... Give 'em a court date if you want."

Fuller shook his head, "I want to wait a few more hours still before calling their father. Give Doug a chance to sober up a little more. And I don't want to stick them with a bunch of fines and court just yet. Let me think it over."

Ioki nodded, "just because you feel bad for them doesn't mean you should let them get away with buying cocaine. And you know they're probably selling it too. They sell marijuana at least. You know that," he looked agitated, "letting them off the hook isn't going to help them at all."

"It might in this case," Fuller narrowed his eyes, "if I send them home with fines that they can't afford, what do you think's going to happen? Their father's going to have to pay them. And how do you think he'll feel about that? A normal father would be furious. A father who beats his kids is going to be even worse."

Doug's eyes widened, "can I go back to Tommy now?" he asked.

Fuller nodded and stood up. He felt guilty for saying that right in front of Doug. He had obviously scared the boy, but maybe he needed to be a little more scared. He handed Doug a card identical to the one he had given to the younger boy minutes earlier, "if you ever need help, call me, okay?" he looked into Doug's eyes, "I'm serious. Any time you feel like you or your brother are in danger, don't hesitate to call me. I want to help you boys right now, but if you won't let me yet, I'll settle on doing it later. Whenever you need help, call me. Understand?"

Doug nodded.

He led the boy back to the cell where his brother was still standing. He sincerely hoped they would let him help them soon. If he had to wait too long, he was going to have to help them without their consent or cooperation, and that probably wasn't going to go over well...

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**_Five more chapters to go...  
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	12. Chapter 12

**_Hello. Thank you to everyone who reviewed my previous chapter. :) I got more reviews than normal, and that makes me so happy. Seeing that more than two people are still reading this really makes me feel better about posting my updates more quickly. I appreciate every single review, whether it's long or short, anonymous or signed. They are all grand. I love you all. ^_^ If I could hug each of you, I would.  
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**_Here is the next chapter. I really hope you like it:  
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**_xxxxxx  
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Chapter12

Doug remained completely silent as he sat between his brother and his father. They were driving home from the 'police station,' or rather, the chapel, and everyone in the truck was completely tense and completely quiet. Doug still felt a little drunk; his vision was swimming slightly, he felt a bit off balance, and he was rather tired, but he at least knew what was going on around himself now.

He felt so stupid for having let himself get drunk and for saying who knows what to the cops. His little brother had been the mature one tonight. Doug had forced the role on him when he had decided to be an irresponsible drunk. He hoped he would at least face the full punishment from their father without Tommy having to be involved.

Fortunately, Fuller, the police captain, had waited hours longer than he had to before calling their father. The man knew what was going on, even if Doug and Tommy refused to confirm is suspicions, and if he wanted, he could have tried to force Doug and Tom away from their father tonight. But he hadn't. He must have known that it wouldn't have worked out. The captain did, however, give them only a warning as punishment for their drug offense, which Doug thought was very strange. Maybe it was his way of trying to pacify their father. Doug didn't think it would do much good though.

"Did you ask me if you could go to this party?" their father finally broke the silence, but refused to look at his sons as he kept his eyes on the road.

Doug felt Tommy squirming beside him. They never asked him if they could go anywhere. They just went places. Their father usually didn't give a shit where they went. Of course, he usually didn't know where they were... He just never seemed to care to ask where his sons spent all of their free time. Doug didn't know if he was meant to actually answer this question. It was, of course, rhetorical.

"Doug," their father continued. He sounded much too calm, "I'm starting to think you're a terrible influence on your brother. Getting drunk, buying cocaine... What were you thinking? You're supposed to be looking after your little brother. You're supposed to be making yourself into a good role model for him, but instead you do the most irresponsible, stupidest thing you can fucking imagine!" By the time he was through with this little speech, his voice was louder and nowhere near as calm as it had been when he had started.

"I was drinking too," Tommy spoke up.

Doug reached over and squeezed his brother's hand, silently telling him to shut up. He didn't want Tommy to drag himself into this too. Their father was angry at Doug, not Tommy. Why should Tommy get himself involved? "You're right, Dad," Doug agreed. He really was supposed to be looking out for his brother. He didn't know there would be cops at that party, or else he wouldn't have taken his brother there.

"So it's not unreasonable to say you've got to be punished," the man continued.

Doug frowned, "I guess so," he scowled over at his father. He didn't really like playing at this game.

"Well, do you think other parents would just let their kids go to drunken parties and buy drugs?" his father raised his voice, "do you think normal kids get arrested by the police and then just go home and go to bed without any repercussions?"

"Other parents don't beat their kids all the time for no reason," Tommy jumped in again, despite his brother's wishes. Doug squeezed his hand again, but Tommy just pulled his fingers out of his older brother's grasp, "why do you think we feel the need to stay away from home all the time? Why do you think we do all of these things? It's because if we're at home, you hit us or yell at us, or both."

"Tommy," Doug looked at him. His little brother looked angry and also a bit fearful, "shhh," he begged his brother to just shut up and let this go. This wasn't his fight.

"Tommy," their father glanced over at him, "I'm talking to your brother. If you know what's good for you, you'll shut your fucking mouth."

They were almost home. Doug was dreading arriving there. He sincerely hoped Tommy wouldn't end up getting hurt over this. His younger brother at least had a chance of staying out of this. Doug seemed doomed, but Tommy didn't. Their father didn't seem interested in punishing Tommy tonight. Doug was the one who should be in trouble here, but of course, he knew Tommy would step between him and their father if he could. Doug wasn't the only one who stood up for his brother. Tommy was smaller than his big brother, but he still often tried to defend him, even if it did little or no good.

"I was drinking too," Tommy reminded their father again, "and smoking weed," he added, "And if Doug hadn't bought that cocaine, I would have!"

"Shut up, Tommy," Doug hissed under his breath.

"Listen to your brother, kid," their father ordered, "I know you were there too, but only because your irresponsible excuse for a brother took you there. I don't want to hear anything more from you. Understand?"

"You're not being fair," Tommy insisted, "Doug and I both screwed up tonight. I'm not just some little kid who's going to follow Doug around and do whatever he says or does. I made up my own mind to go to that party. I drank on my own, smoked weed while Doug wasn't even there... If what we did was wrong, we're both equally at fault. You can't pin this all on him."

"Tommy," their father's voice showed that he was losing what little patience he possessed, "I don't want to hear another word out of you. Anything you say from this point on is just going to make things worse for both of you."

At that, Tommy snapped his mouth shut, crossed his arms over his chest, and resumed his tense silence. In fact, everyone in the truck remained silent as they pulled up in front of the house.

"Get out of the truck, Doug," their father instructed, opening the door and walking around to Tommy's side. His window was rolled down, so their father spoke to his younger son without having to open the vehicle's door, "you stay here."

Doug walked around so that he stood behind his father and could see his brother's face.

"No," Tommy refused, shaking his head and reaching down to open his door.

"Tommy," their father started, pushing against the door so that his son couldn't open it, "this isn't about you. Your brother is a bad influence over you, and he needs to be punished. He's probably too far gone to ever make anything out of himself, but you're not."

Doug stayed quiet as he just watched his brother and father. He didn't want to do anything to make this worse.

He saw his brother flinch back as his father reached up and placed hand lightly on Tommy's cheek. He was being very uncharacteristically gentle, "I don't know why you're always testing me, Tommy. Even when you're not in trouble, you fight with me until you are. You're right. I should punish you tonight, but I'm not going to," He turned back toward Doug, "go inside and go down to the basement."

Doug didn't comply. He didn't want to leave his brother out here with the man. Their father wasn't seeming like he wanted to hurt Tommy, but Doug knew better than to assume. Besides, Tommy's mouth got him in trouble more than anything else he did, and he was certainly not afraid to keep talking tonight. Their father wasn't so angry with the boy yet, but that could quickly change. Doug wasn't going to risk it. He stayed put.

"I'm not staying out here while you beat up Doug," Tommy yelled.

Tommy didn't have to open his door now, "we have neighbors, damn it," their father growled, pulling the door open and yanking his son out of the truck. He shook his son, dragged him by his arm and spoke in a hushed hissing tone, "shut the fuck up when you're right outside in front of the whole damn neighborhood."

Doug chased after his father as he pulled his little brother roughly by the arm, into the house and down the stairs leading into the basement.

"Get off him," Doug pleaded, rushing to his brother's aid. He pulled at his father's arm.

The next thing he knew, he was feeling a throbbing pain as his father turned around and hit him hard across the face, with enough force to cause Doug to stumble backward. He brought his hand up to check if his nose was bleeding. When he brought it back away from his face, sure enough, there was a bit of blood on his finger tips. It wasn't too much though, and could have certainly been worse.

His father was on him in no time, dragging him toward the wall, to the place where he had chained the boys up and hit them with his belt not too long ago.

Doug fought with his father, just like he always did, but somehow the man was able to overpower him, just like always. He forced his first hand up into one of the restraints and then had an even easier time locking up the second one, regardless of the fact that Doug was throwing punches the man. He easily grabbed his son's flailing arm and locked it up so that Doug could barely move. Unlike yesterday morning, Doug was facing forward this time.

He looked over his father's shoulder. Tommy had been knocked to the ground, but he was getting up now. Doug wished he'd just go up to his room and keep himself out of this, but he knew it was too much to ask. He would have preferred Tommy to just leave him here to take the punishment on his own, but Doug wouldn't have done the same for Tommy, so why should he expect Tommy to do it for him? Neither brother wanted to see the other hurt, and both of them were willing to throw themselves between their brother and danger, no matter how much the other would have begged him not to.

Doug's father punched him in the stomach, hard. Doug wished he could curl up into a ball and protect himself, but the way he was chained up denied him that option. Instead, he settled on squeezing his eyes shut and trying to regain his breath.

"Stop it!" he heard his brother's frightened yet determined voice. Doug opened his eyes at the familiar sound of his brother's pleas. Tommy was on their father in no time, pulling at his arms in an attempt to overpower the man and in order to prevent him from swinging at Doug again.

As their father started turning toward Tommy, Doug kicked out, successfully hitting the man in the shin. If Doug could keep him angry at him, maybe he'd forget that Tommy was there fighting him too. For a moment, it seemed to work. Before he was even completely turned around to face Tommy, he turned back toward Doug and punched him in the stomach again.

Doug squeezed his hands into fists and groaned in pain. Allowing himself to fall the the floor would have been nice. As he breathed in and out heavily and tried to back away from his father, he looked over at his brother who had met his eyes. Doug shook his head very slightly, trying to tell his brother to stay out of this, but Tommy didn't listen to his unsaid words.

With anger and fear still in his eyes, the younger boy balled his hands into fists and punched their father's back, "stop it!" he yelled again, "stop hitting him!"

"God damn it, Tommy!" their father was obviously furious. He turned around before Doug had a chance to try to stop him again. The boys' father grabbed his younger son's arm and twisted it back behind him in a manner that looked quite painful, "this doesn't involve you," he hissed.

Doug heard his brother gasp in pain and then heard a sickening cracking sound. He knew that sound. His father had broken something in poor Tommy's arm. Now his brother cried out even louder. The pain in his voice was heart-breaking. Doug pulled at his restraints as he looked at his brother with wide eyes. Tommy wasn't struggling so much anymore. In fact he could almost be described as limp. But their father still hadn't let go of him.

Tommy whimpered as he was pushed harshly against the wall a few feet away from Doug. He was now turned around so that his back was against the wall, his hands were free, and his father stood right in front of him. Their father pressed his large hand over Tommy's mouth and nose, probably restricting his breathing.

"Let him go!" Doug pleaded, pulling at his restraints again, "please stop!" It was useless. Was their father actually trying to kill Tommy? Was he trying to suffocate him? "Dad!" he was frantic, "you've got to let him go! You're hurting him!"

Over Doug's own heavy breathing, he heard his father speaking now to his younger brother, "Just be good," he instructed, "stay back and we'll get this all over with. Your brother deserves to be punished. The sooner you let that happen, the sooner we can all go to bed. The more you fight me, the more you're both going to end up suffering. If you just go up to your damn room, you won't be involved in this at all. This has nothing to do with you tonight, Tommy. So just step back, and everything will be okay. I somehow doubt it's going to be that easy though. You've always got to make things difficult."

Tommy's eyes were wide and he had his smaller hands raised up, grasping desperately at his father's large fingers which were still clamped over his mouth. He seemed to be trying to say something, but it couldn't be heard through the large hand over half his face.

Their father continued holding him in place, almost completely unphased by his son's weakening struggles. He looked over to Doug, "Will he just pass out if I keep holding him like this?" he asked, "I'm not going to accidentally kill him, am I?"

Doug stared at him, "I don't know! Just let go of him! Let him go!" He tugged at the chains again, "please! You could kill him!" his eyes darted over to Tommy whose fingers were still weakly groping his father's arm and hand. His little brother was clearly trying very hard to get out of his father's grasp, but was obviously losing this fight. As the seconds ticked by, Tommy's struggles became more and more weak. He was even using his arm which it seemed their father had just broken. He let out a muffled cry each time he used his injured arm to try to free himself. Using that limb must have hurt him horribly. Doug felt tears stinging his eyes, "he can't breathe!" he yelled as he pulled at his restraints until his wrists ached.

"I won't kill him," his father assured Doug, laughing, "I just want him to stay the hell out of my way for a god damned minute," he shook Tommy as he said this and then finally moved his hand off his son's mouth and nose, but still held him up against the wall.

Tommy breathed in a series of deep, shaking breaths as his wide, horrified eyes stared at his father who held him firmly in place.

"I'll leave you alone if you go up to your room and stay there," his father offered, "will you do that?"

Tommy breathed heavily in and out a few more times and then finally shook his head, "No," he said in a small voice, "I'm not going to just sit back while you hurt my brother," he paused to breathe in and out again. His breaths were still shaky. His voice was shaking too, as he continued, "Please just stop. Why don't you punish us like every other parent? Do you think other parents have chains in their basements?" Tommy continued breathing rapidly.

"Other parents don't have to deal with kids who get drunk every day and who buy drugs and skip school!" their father bellowed, wrapping a hand threateningly around Tommy's throat.

Doug saw his brother's eyes widen, but he didn't seem frantic just yet. Their father must not have been squeezing his hand. He was just using the gesture as a threat, "Tommy," Doug pleaded, still pulling at the chains that tethered him to the ceiling, "just go up to your room. I'll be okay. Please just listen to him," he was scared for his brother, just like he always was.

Tommy winced as he moved his injured arm up so that he could use both his hands in the task of grabbing at his father's arm. He looked over at Doug, "I can't leave you down here," he shook his head and was clearly holding back tears. His eyes shone as he struggled to pull away from his father, but to no avail.

Doug gritted his teeth as he saw his father tighten his grip on his young son's throat, squeezing enough to restrict his son's breathing. Doug could see that Tommy was starting to gasp uselessly for air that would not reach his lungs. His eyes looked scared.

"I wouldn't have done this if you didn't make me," their father growled, "I didn't want you involved in this at all, Tommy," he used his free hand to brush some hair away from Tommy's eyes as he squeezed his throat with his other hand.

Doug felt his own breath increasing in pace as he looked at his brother. He wore a pained and terrified expression as he scratched feebly at his father's larger hand.

"Please stop!" Doug pleaded again, "you could really kill him!" he screamed. He pulled on his restraints yet again, trying uselessly to free his hands, "Let him go!" he yelled, "you're going to kill him! You've gotta let him go! Please!" He knew he was being repetitive, but he didn't know what else to say.

"Shhh," their father hushed his son. Doug could see that there were tears falling from his brother's eyes. His father didn't seem to care like he normally would. Normally, he'd make fun of Tommy for crying, but not this time. Finally, he loosened his grip, "Now stay the hell out of my way," he brushed his hand over Tommy's tear-stained cheek and then pushed the boy roughly to the side. Now he turned back toward Doug.

As Tommy lay on the floor, gasping for air, the cruel man who had just nearly suffocated him hit Doug in the stomach again. Doug winced and tried to pull his hands free again. Each strike of his father's fist seemed harder than the last, likely because he was hitting him in the same places over and over, damaging already damaged ribs. Even though Doug was in a lot of pain, he kept his attention on Tommy, who was lying on the floor, curling himself into a ball and coughing uncontrollably.

His attention was brought back to his father as he felt the familiar sting of his father's belt cracking across his chest. Fortunately, he was wearing a shirt just like last time. The belt always hurt more when his skin was bare. But even with a shirt, he still found the pain excruciating. Focusing on Tommy actually seemed to make the pain less intense. He couldn't have even said when his father had managed to arm himself with his belt. Had he been wearing it? Did he pick it up off the floor? Doug hadn't been paying attention.

He squeezed his eyes shut and tried his hardest not to cry out as his father struck him with the belt again and again. When he finally did open his eyes, it was only to look over at his brother to make sure the kid was still alright. But Tommy wasn't there.

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	13. Chapter 13

**_Thank you for all the reviews. :) I hope you continue liking this story._**

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Chapter13

Tommy's throat burned and his arm throbbed. He feared for his brother's safety much more tonight than he normally did. Their father was so angry tonight, and strangely, he was much more upset with Doug than Tommy. Usually it was the other way around.

Currently, the younger McQuaid brother found himself lying on the floor of the basement as he gasped for breath. He looked over toward Doug whose wrists were secured in place so that he couldn't move. The older boy's eyes were closed as their father swung a belt at him again and again, hitting his chest over and over. Tommy could see Doug's body tensing up each time the belt struck him. He knew his brother must have been in so much pain.

He felt like just curling himself into a ball and crying. He didn't ever remember feeling as defeated as he did right now. Getting hurt was awful. Being in a position where someone was hurting you and you could do nothing about it was one of the worst feelings in the world. But this was even worse. He couldn't bear to know that his brother was being hurt right in front of him and there was nothing he could do about it. But of course, there had to be _something_ he could do...

Though the boy was exhausted and still fighting with his own body for control of his lungs, he knew he needed to do something to help his brother. Doug would certainly live through something like this, but it wouldn't be at all pleasant. The boys still hadn't recovered from the last time their father had hit them with that belt. How much more could Doug take before passing out from pain?

With shaking arms and legs, Tommy pulled himself up off the floor. He held his breath as he stood, fighting to keep from wincing at the pain in his arm. Being silent was important now. He was trying to do do what he thought was best and hoped his brother would agree. As soon as he was able to keep himself up on his trembling legs, he rushed quickly and quietly up the stairs and to the phone.

With fumbling fingers, he reached into his pants pocket and grabbed the card Captain Fuller had given him earlier that night. For a moment, he just looked down at the card. The phone number printed on it scared him. Would calling it be a mistake? Would it be only a temporary solution?

Tommy reached out quickly and grabbed the phone, but paused again before he dialed. His fingers gripped the phone tightly as he continued to stare down at the phone number. Once he did this, there was no going back... He knew it might backfire... But Doug was being hurt right now. He had to do something, and going back down there pleading with their father wasn't going to cut it. Neither was trying to fight the man... He held his breath and dialed the number, his hands trembling as he did so.

"Fuller," he heard the familiar voice of the man who had posed as their teacher answer on the other end of the call. The voice made him feel hopeful and dreadful at the same time.

"Captain Fuller?" Tommy could hear his own voice was scratchy from having been choked. He swallowed painfully, trying to make his voice more clear. He hoped the scratchy feeling in his throat and the damaged tone in his voice would go away soon. He didn't want to sound so hurt, "this is Tommy McQuaid," he informed the man.

"Are you alright, Tommy?" the man sounded worried, "What happened? Should I come over to your house?"

Tommy hesitated, but only for a slight moment. As much as he wanted to try to wait this out, he couldn't bear to let his brother get hurt any more than he already had, and he was powerless to physically step in and help him. His brother's only hope was Fuller.

"Yeah," Tommy managed to say in a still shaking, scratchy voice, "do you know where we live?" he asked.

"I do," Fuller told him, "listen," he ordered, "I'm going to get Hoffs to stay on the line with you while I come down there with Ioki. You can talk to her until we get there, alright?"

"Hoffs?" Tommy repeated with confusion evident in his small voice.

"Judy," Fuller clarified, "does your father have any weapons? Is there anything we need to know before we get there?"

"I don't think he has weapons. But I can't stay on the phone. I've got to go back," Tommy insisted, "just please hurry!"

"Tommy, wait!" Fuller demanded, "please talk to Judy while I get over there so we'll know you're okay. If you'll stay on the phone, we'll have a better idea of what to expect when we get there. Are you or your brother hurt? Do you need an ambulance?"

Tommy whimpered, "I don't know. When you get here, come down to the basement. I've got to go."

"Don't hang up-" he heard Fuller plead.

"Please hurry," Tommy said again and hung up the phone. He looked around frantically, trying to find something he could use to threaten his father with. He settled on a lamp, which he knew would do no real damage. But there was noting else available. Unfortunately, they didn't have a supply of blunt objects readily available for situations like this.

He ran down the stairs where his father was still facing away from him and toward Doug. Tommy's brother had his eyes closed and was breathing heavily. Tommy hoped he wasn't hurt too badly, but at least their father had stopped hitting him for now. Right now, the man was leaned in close to Doug and was saying something to him in a hushed voice, but Tommy didn't hear what it was. He couldn't seem to focus on his father's voice. Even if it was loud enough, he probably wouldn't have comprehended whatever it was the man was saying. He wasn't sure what else to do, so Tommy just raised his hands up and slammed the lamp against his father's back as hard as he could, wincing as the force caused his own broken arm to ache tremendously.

"You little-" his father turned around and grabbed onto him, backing him into a corner and pushing him roughly up against the wall, "I thought you'd finally learned to stay the fuck out of my way when I tell you to," he growled, staring down at Tommy and grabbing onto the arm he had already broken.

Tommy cried out in pain and tried to pull his arm away, "don't you think you've punished Doug enough?" he whimpered. He wished his voice didn't sound so weak, "can't we just discuss this for a couple minutes?"

"Discuss it?" his father laughed, "what's there to discuss? Go ahead. Try me."

Tommy gulped. He looked over his father's shoulder at Doug who looked quite defeated. Yet he still met his brother's eyes. Doug's eyes looked worried, like he was scared for what might happen to Tommy if the boy didn't just let this go. Doug was giving him a look that said 'just shut up while your ahead,' without him actually having to say it verbally. Doug gave him this look quite frequently. But Tommy never listened to Doug's silent warnings before, so he saw no reason to make an exception now.

"Well," his father yelled, "go ahead," he shook his son and squeezed his hands around his upper arms, "you wanna talk? You got some profound thing to say that's going to change everything? Then say it!"

"Okay," Tommy finally gasped, "what if Doug and I promise to be better from now on? We won't go out to parties. We'll go to bed early. We don't buy or sell drugs. We'll do our homework and never skip class."

"That's what I expect of you already," their father growled, "your brother is being punished for not doing those things."

"But don't you think he's learned his lesson?" Tommy felt incredibly scared, but kept talking, "I mean... look at him? You really hurt him. Can't you just take a moment and think about what it feels like to be hit with a belt? And how many times did you hit him? I think he gets the point," Tommy felt his sarcasm and defiance returning. He was still scared, but being witty was part of his defense. At least it made him feel more brave and less terrified.

"I don't know," his father smirked, "you had enough, Douglas?" he called over, but he didn't wait for Doug's answer, "I can either hit you twenty more times, or I could hit Tommy five times. Either way, we'll call it done afterward and you can both go up to your rooms and go to bed. So what'll it be Doug? Have you had enough?"

Doug stiffened instantly, "No! Don't hit Tommy. Please! He didn't do anything wrong."

Smiling down at Tommy, his father shrugged and turned back toward Doug.

"No!" Tommy cried, grabbing his father's arm and trying his best to pull him backward. He reached out and snatched the belt out of his father's hand, shocked when he actually succeeded in taking it from the man. His father must have not expected that, because his grip on the object hadn't been that strong.

"Give that back, Tommy," his father warned, his voice low and threatening.

Tommy shook his head and backed away from the man, "no. I'm not going to let you do this to us anymore. Normal people don't hit their kids with belts. Especially not while they are locked up so that they can't even move. You're the one who's wrong here. Not us."

His father was on him in no time, slapping him across the face and reaching for the belt, but Tommy stretched his hand as far away from his father as he could, and used his other hand to hold the man back, despite the fact that any little moment of his broken arm was causing him pain. He wasn't going to give up. His father would have to knock him unconscious or kill him if he wanted to beat up Doug any more, because as long as Tommy could help it, he wasn't going to just sit back and watch it happen.

Tommy wasn't sure how it happened, but he soon found himself on the floor with his father on top of him. The man had reached toward his hand which held the belt, but Tommy threw it across the room so the man couldn't get his hands on it.

Now his father had both of Tommy's wrists pinned down above his head, doing so with only one of his larger hands. With his other hand, he grabbed Tommy's chin and forced him to look up at him, "am I going to have to chain you up next to Doug?" he growled.

Tommy was breathing heavily. His broken arm hurt horribly with his dad's hand crushing it. Wincing, he stared up at his father, "Do whatever you have to," Tommy hissed in between pained breaths, "I'm not going to let you hurt my brother while I just stand there. So if you're going to keep hitting Doug and expect me to not fight with you, you'll have to make sure I'm tied up pretty damn tightly."

He felt his father's fingers tightening around his wrists, which caused Tommy to cry out a small gasp of pain. The man stared down at him, "man up, Tommy," his father demanded, squeezing his arms even tighter.

Tommy tried to pull his arms out of the man's grasp, but found it impossible. He let out an agonized moan, "you're hurting me," he admitted between frantic breathing and winces of pain. It seemed a redundant thing to say, but he hoped his father might show him some mercy. Maybe he wasn't intending to hurt his son. Maybe he didn't know he had damaged the boy's arm so much already. Maybe if Tommy said something, he'd ease up, "I think you broke my arm earlier," Tommy explained. He tried to slow down his breathing, but couldn't manage to do so.

Doug was yelling out something. He was probably pleading for his brother's sake, but Tommy couldn't focus on anything he was saying. He could only focus on his own pain for the moment. It didn't seem their father was paying any attention to his older son either, because he didn't look over to him or say anything to the boy. Instead, he just continued grasping Tommy's arms and staring down into his eyes.

He felt his father running his fingers along his broken arm until he reached the spot where the bone was out of place. He pushed on it lightly, but still hard enough to cause Tommy to wince and try to jerk away, "looks like I did," his father laughed, "or maybe you tripped down the stairs, huh?"

Tommy stared up into his father's eyes.

"Right?" his father narrowed his eyes, "you tripped down the stairs?"

Still breathing hard, Tommy stayed still and silent for a moment, but when he felt his father squeezing his arm even tighter than before, he winced, "right," he gasped, nodding and squeezing his eyes shut.

Tommy and his father both froze as they heard someone coming through their front door upstairs. The next thing they heard were several pairs of feet running through the house. Tommy felt himself pulled up to his feet. He then felt himself being pulled backward against his father's chest and felt his father's hand clamp over his mouth.

"Shhh," the man whispered into his ear, "don't say a word, Doug," he then heard the man call over to his brother. He then bent down to make his stature closer to his son's and put his lips next to Tommy's ear again, "you expecting someone? Who the fuck is that?"

Tommy felt his blood run cold. His father was going to be so mad. What if they didn't have enough of a reason to call the police after all? People did hit their kids as punishment, and it wasn't necessarily against the law. What if he and Doug had to come back and live here even after he had called Fuller? Doug was going to be mad at him too... What if he had made a huge mistake?

But it was too late now. The cops were coming down the stairs. There was no going back.

"Police!" Tommy heard Fuller's voice. He came into the basement with his gun drawn. He pointed it toward the McQuaid brothers' father, but moved it to point up at the ceiling as soon as he saw that Tommy was now being held in front of the man.

"What can I do for you, officer?" Tommy's father asked. He sounded strangely calm, like he didn't see anything wrong with what he was doing.

Tommy saw Fuller's eyes look at him and then look over toward Doug. There were a few other officers there too, including Ioki, but Tommy wasn't paying attention to them. He just stared at Fuller, who seemed to be doing his best to remain calm. He was doing a rather good job at it too. He was probably used to situations like this.

"I need to talk to your sons, Mr. McQuaid," Fuller told him, "could you let them come upstairs with me for a minute?"

Tommy felt his father's grip tighten around him. The man's arm wrapped over his shoulder and across his chest. He could feel his father's large hand gripped tightly around his upper arm. Tommy had reached up his own hand and gripped the large arm that was wrapped around him, and his father's second hand was gripped tightly around his wrist. The boy kept his injured hand limp at his side, not wanting to cause any more hurt to it.

"You can talk to 'em right here," Mr. McQuaid refused Fuller's request.

"I'd really rather talk to them alone," Fuller persisted, keeping his grip tight on his gun, but still only pointing it toward the ceiling.

"What are you wanting to talk to them about?" the man asked, "because I think I have a right to be present, since they are my sons." Tommy winced as the man hugged him even closer, squeezing him even tighter than before.

Fuller sighed, "Can you explain to me why one of your sons is chained up down here?" he asked.

"They are being punished," the boys' father answered, "surely you can understand why. They bought cocaine and were drinking alcohol at a party I didn't even give them permission to go to in the first place. And they were arrested by the cops. You know that, of course. They deserve some sort of punishment. Any parent would do the same."

"I don't think that's true," Fuller raised his eyebrows, "Ioki, go uncuff Doug."

Ioki walked slowly and carefully over past Tommy and his father. The restraints down in the basement didn't require a key; they had a sort of buckle-like clasp, but it was impossible to undo unless you weren't the one tied up. Ioki would easily be able to free Doug from the restraints though.

Tommy felt his father flinch a bit, as though he was thinking about going over to prevent Ioki from taking Doug, but he kept still, probably because he saw Fuller still had a gun and looked very serious. Tommy wondered if he was going to die. Would Fuller shoot his father? What if he missed and hit Tommy? At least Doug would be okay...

"Dad," Tommy heard Doug's voice from behind him, "can you please just let Tommy go? We can all talk about this misunderstanding and be done with it."

"Sir," Fuller started again, "I think you should listen to your son."

"Am I in some sort of trouble?" Tommy's father asked, "you need to tell me what the fuck is going on!" he was almost yelling now and was shaking Tommy with each word, "just tell me the god-damned truth!"

"What you're doing to your sons is a crime," Fuller seemed hesitant, but answered the man's question, "you're hurting them much worse than you have any excuse to. Some people still believe in spanking their children as punishment, but to hurt them as badly as you have been is not okay in any way. There is no arguing about it."

"So am I in trouble?" he growled, tightening his grip on Tommy's wrist and around his chest so that Tommy winced, "or not?"

"I'm afraid so," Fuller said in a calm voice, "but the sooner you cooperate the better. The longer we're here arguing the worse this is going to be. If we have to force you into police custody, you'll be charged with resisting arrest. And I can guarantee you, If you hurt this boy in front of us, things are going to get so much worse for you."

Tommy watched as Doug was led up the stairs. His older brother seemed hesitant to leave, but let a few cops drag him away. They had probably insisted that he get himself out of the basement, and Tommy was glad they did. Doug likely needed medical attention. Their father had hit him pretty hard, both with his fists as well as with his belt. And that was only the part Tommy witnessed. He could have been hurt even worse than Tommy realized.

"So what do you say?" Fuller still sounded calm, "let him go. We'll take you down to the station and we'll go through all this as calmly and easily as we can."

Tommy stared at Fuller whose eyes met his again. He could feel his father was tense and that he was breathing heavily as though he was angry. For a moment, Tommy tried to pull away from his father, as he feared the man might be ready to snap, but he was pulled back before he even moved an inch. The grip around him was tight enough to actually hurt now. Tommy squeezed his eyes shut and waited.

Finally, the man's grip relaxed and Tommy felt himself being shoved forward. He opened his eyes, shocked that his father had actually let him go without a fight. Fuller stepped forward and grabbed him, pulling the boy toward himself and then pushing him lightly toward another cop who Tommy didn't know. The cop gripped Tommy's shoulders and made quick work of leading him upstairs.

Tommy glanced back over his shoulder in time to see Fuller slapping some handcuffs on his father's wrists, but he didn't have to watch that scene for long. The police officer who was holding onto him by his shoulder spoke up, "come on," the cop instructed, pulling him gently along.

When he reached the top of the stairs, he immediately started looking around for Doug. There were some cops hanging around the living room, but Doug was nowhere to be seen. Tommy's eyes scanned the room again. He was starting to feel frantic. Finally, he saw Judy coming through the front door and rushing up to him.

"Are you okay?" she asked, grabbing him by the shoulders and looking into his eyes. Her own eyes were wide, making her look quite concerned, "I think you should let a paramedic look you over, okay?"

"Where's Doug?" Tommy rasped, bringing his hand up to his throat when he remembered how scratchy it felt.

"He's just outside," Judy took the liberty of taking over for whoever it was who had led Tommy up the stairs. She grabbed his shoulders and led him outside where a few ambulances were parked, "we had them keep the sirens off so your dad wouldn't hear them and know something was up," she explained, "Doug's perfectly safe. He's getting looked over by paramedics right now," she gestured toward one of the ambulances, and sure enough Doug was sitting just inside the door of the vehicle.

Tommy shrugged out of her grasp and walked briskly over toward his brother. He was practically jogging.

"I think you should let them have a look at you too," Judy called after him.

Tommy ignored her. He would let the paramedics fix him up. Just not yet. Right now he wanted confirmation that his brother was okay. Tommy knew his own arm was broken, but that couldn't be fixed right here in an ambulance anyway. The doctors would probably want to do x-rays first. He didn't feel too hurt anywhere else. He'd be fine. He just needed to make sure Doug was going to be fine too.

Before Tommy even made it up to the ambulance, he could hear his brother fighting with the paramedics, "I'm fine!" he insisted, "I already told you!"

"Doug," Tommy spoke in a small voice as he neared the ambulance.

"Tommy!" Doug jumped up and ran over a few paces to meet his brother. Doug wrapped his arms around Tommy, squeezing him in a secure embrace. The hug was tight enough to make Tommy feel comforted, but not so tight that it hurt his broken arm. Tommy wrapped his arms around Doug in return and laid his head against his brother's chest. He could feel his older brother's hand rubbing his shoulder lightly. After a moment, Doug pulled back and looked down at his brother, "you okay?"

Nodding, Tommy stared back up at him, "yeah... Are you? Are your ribs broken?"

Doug shook his head, "No. I'm tough, remember?" he smirked a crooked smile, but it didn't last long. The grin was quickly replaced with a frown, "you've gotta let them look at your arm," he insisted, reaching toward Tommy's broken arm and taking it lightly in his hands, "come on," he put his hand on Tommy's back and led him back to the paramedics he had just been arguing with.

Tommy kept his eyes glued to Doug's as he felt the hands of the paramedics grabbing onto him. Doug was saying something, and the paramedics were saying something. But Tommy couldn't focus on either. Were they talking to him? He didn't know.

"Tommy," he finally made out one of the words that escaped his brother's lips.

Blinking, Tommy shook his head slightly and tried to focus, "what?" he asked.

"You okay?" Doug wondered, leaning down and looking into his little brother's eyes, "you can hear me, right?" his eyebrows were furrowed. He looked so worried.

"His arm's definitely broken," the paramedic next to him finally said. Tommy turned toward the paramedic and then looked down at his arm as he listened to the rest of what the man was saying, "we can take him to the hospital and get x-rays done to see the extent of the damage. It doesn't look too bad though, so you have no need to worry."

"Tommy," he looked back at Doug who was talking to him again, "you alright?"

Tommy nodded, "I'm okay," he breathed out, "I just..." he wasn't sure what to say. Why _was_ he so out of it right now? "I think I'm just in shock or something... I can't believe I called Fuller..." he stared up into Doug's eyes, "I didn't know what else to do..."

"It's okay, Tommy," Doug assured him.

"You can ride with us," the paramedic told Doug.

As Doug climbed up into the ambulance, Tommy noticed Judy standing right next to where Doug had stood. How long had she been there, "I'll meet you guys at the hospital, okay?" she offered.

"Yeah," Doug nodded as he sat down next to Tommy.

As the ambulance started toward the hospital, Tommy looked over at Doug. His brother seemed to be okay, and for that he was glad. But he still couldn't help but wonder what was going to happen next. He hoped he hadn't made a mistake in calling the police. He felt safer for the moment, but didn't really know how this was all going to turn out.

**_xxxxxx_**

**_I hope you're still enjoying this... There are only three chapters left. And I hope you stick around to read them. :)_**


	14. Chapter 14

_**Thank you for continuing to read my story. And thank you for all the reviews. :) I still appreciate them all tremendously. I know the story is kind of wrapping up now, but if you're still reading, I'd still love to hear from you... So keep reviewing if you'd like. I know I'd like you to...**_

_**xxxxxx**_

Chapter14

Doug and Tommy McQuaid sat quietly on a couch in a very unfamiliar apartment. It was Captain Fuller's place. The boys had been taken to the hospital as soon as they were out of their house. There, it was confirmed that Tommy's arm was indeed broken. He had gotten his arm put in a cast and sling, and Doug, fortunately, had no broken bones - only bruises and pain.

At the hospital, a doctor or cop (Doug wasn't sure which) had insisted on taking photos of their injuries as evidence. Doug remembered Tommy had been extremely reluctant to comply. In fact, it had taken a lot of encouragement from both Doug and Judy before he had finally agreed:

...

_"It seems like we have a pretty good case against your father," Judy Hoffs had assured them as she stood in the examination room with the brothers and the man with the camera, "but just to make sure we have all our bases covered, I think it would be wise to have photos of your injuries as evidence." _

_Doug nodded. That seemed reasonable enough. But Tommy didn't look convinced.  
_

_"You already have an x-ray of my arm," he insisted, "isn't that enough?"  
_

_Judy frowned, "the more evidence, the better," she told him, "he could make up some sort of excuse for a broken arm, but the more injuries we can prove he caused, the more likely we'll win this case. We might not even need the evidence. It all depends on if he'll admit to any of this. But it's always good to have some back up support, just in case."  
_

_"Come on, man," Doug squeezed his brother's uninjured arm, "it's not a big deal. Just a couple quick photos of your arms and back. I'll even go first," he offered, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it onto the examination table.  
_

_Doug was led over a bit out of the way and stood still as a man took a photo of his back and then his front, "See?" the man called over to Tommy who was practically hiding behind Judy, "that's all there is to it."  
_

_Tommy shook his head, "who's going to see these pictures?" he asked.  
_

_"No one but a judge and jury, prosecution and defense lawyers... and that is assuming that there's even a trial. It all depends on how far this case goes. If your father admits he did it, it's possible no one will ever need to see them. And even if he doesn't admit it, there's probably not going to be a full blown trial. These cases usually aren't too complicated if we have a lot of evidence, which we will if you let me document it. Don't worry. No one is going to make fun of you or think badly of you," he assured the younger boy, "they are just to be used as evidence and nothing more."  
_

_"It's quick and painless," Judy assured him.  
_

_Tommy's eyes were wide. He hesitated, "but not all the bruises are from him," he stammered, "Doug and I got into a fight with some homeless guy a couple nights ago..."  
_

_"We can make a note of which injuries are from him," the man with the camera offered.  
_

_"Come on, Tommy," Doug reassured him, putting his hand on Tommy's head, "there's nothing to be embarrassed about," Doug kept his own shirt off so that maybe Tommy would feel better about taking his off in front of Judy and the photographer. Doug doubted the boy's hesitance had anything to do with him feeling ashamed of anyone seeing his bare chest. He probably just didn't want anyone to see how hurt he was, even if they did already know. Tommy was always shy about showing off his injuries. He didn't want people thinking he was weak or defenseless.  
_

_"Fine," Tommy sighed. He nervously shrugged out of the sling, pulled off the hospital gown he was wearing and averted his eyes from everyone in the room. The doctors had given him scrubs pants as well, so keeping them on made taking off the gown no big deal. Doug thought so anyway.  
_

_Doug looked down and saw that Judy was squeezing his brother's hand in her own. Tommy didn't even try to pull his hand away from hers. Doug wondered which one of them had initiated that. Did Judy grab onto him to comfort him? Or had he snatched up her hand on his own? It sort of made Doug feel bad for not being the one in Judy's place... But he wasn't about to go over and push her out of the way.  
_

_The photographer took photos of Tommy's chest and back, and then a separate closer photo of his neck, which had bruises on it from their father's hand.  
_

_"Alright," the man squeezed Tommy's shoulder reassuringly, "all done."  
_

_Tommy pulled the hospital gown and sling back on and sat back down on the examination table behind Judy.  
_

_"I'll let you two stay in here for a little bit if you want," the doctor offered, "you're free to go whenever you're ready," with that, the doctor and photographer left so that the brothers and Judy were the only people left in the room.  
_

_"I'm sure the doctor already asked you this," Judy looked from Tommy to Doug, "but I'm going to say it again just in case."  
_

_Doug narrowed his eyes, waiting for her to continue. He looked over at Tommy who was just staring tiredly at the floor.  
_

_"Did your father ever do anything else... well..." she paused, "did he ever do anything sexual to either of you?" Judy asked, holding her breath as she waited for their answer._

_Doug shook his head, "No," he insisted, feeling shocked that she would even ask. For a moment he felt worried. What if his father had done something like that to Tommy? But then he shook his head. He wouldn't have had time to. Doug was always with Tommy. And even if he had found the time, Tommy would have told Doug about it. They told each other everything. Plus, his father wasn't like that. He seemed to like hurting them, but not like that.  
_

_"Tommy?" Judy asked.  
_

_Tommy looked up at her, "what?" he looked lost. He hadn't been listening.  
_

_She sighed, "has your father ever touched you inappropriately? I mean... has he ever hurt you in a sexual way?" she seemed like she didn't like asking even once, and was even more hesitant to ask a second time.  
_

_Tommy shook his head, "no." he answered simply. Doug was glad to hear no fear in his voice. He hadn't hesitated and didn't sound like he was in denial or anything. His answer sounded even more truthful than Doug's had.  
_

_Fortunately, Judy had let that subject drop when she felt convinced the brothers weren't lying, "I'll leave you alone so you can get dressed," she looked at Tommy and then back at Doug, "whenever you're ready, I'll be right outside the door." _

_As soon as Judy left the room, Tommy started taking the hospital gown off again. Doug watched him. His chest and back were pretty bruised up, but not as bad as Doug's. But it was still enough to make Doug feel guilty. Most of Tommy's cuts and bruises weren't created tonight. His only new injuries that were significant were his broken arm and his bruised neck. Doug wished he could have protected his brother tonight.  
_

_"Can you help me?" Doug was pulled out of his thoughts at the sound of his brother's voice. He was having trouble pulling his t-shirt over the cast on his arm.  
_

_Doug walked over to him and un-snagged the shirt from the edge of the cast. He then helped the boy get the sling back over his shoulder.  
_

_"Thanks," Tommy mumbled.  
_

_"Tommy," Doug frowned as he looked down at his brother. He hadn't ever thought about this until Judy had mentioned it tonight, but their father really could have done so much worse to them. If the man had wanted to, he could have done almost anything to Tommy and Doug. Doug felt pretty sure he himself would have been able to fight back and avoid something like that... But would Tommy have been able to? The more he thought about it, the more nervous he felt. The other morning, when he found his father hitting Tommy in the basement, the boy had been crying and was only dressed in boxers. His arms had been restrained, so he couldn't have fought back... And he couldn't say how long the two were down there... Doug really didn't think their father would ever want to do something sexual to them, but what if he had, to Tommy?  
_

_"Doug... What?" he heard Tommy's voice, "are you spaced out?"  
_

_Doug blinked, shook his head, and laughed very slightly, "I guess I must have been," he admitted. He had said his brother's name and then had gotten lost in his thoughts before he listened for Tommy's response, "um... I wanted to ask you something," Doug frowned.  
_

_"Go ahead," Tommy looked up at him and waited.  
_

_Doug cleared his throat, "you know how Judy was, um... talking about... well... you know..."  
_

_Tommy furrowed his brows, "what?" he asked, sitting down on the table next to Doug, pulling his legs up and turning to face his brother.  
_

_"Well... when she asked if Dad ever did anything... um... sexual to us," Doug nervously explained.  
_

_Tommy's eyes widened, "yeah," he said in a small voice, "what about it?"  
_

_"Well," Doug breathed out nervously, "you would tell me if he did something like that to you, right?"  
_

_Tommy shrugged his shoulders, "he didn't. Why? He didn't do anything like that to you, did he?" Tommy's eyes were still wide and he looked quite scared.  
_

_Doug shook his head, "no... I just was worried that he might have to you."  
_

_Tommy shook his head as well, "no. He didn't. I swear."  
_

_"But you'd tell me if he did, right?" Doug wondered. He hoped his brother was telling the truth.  
_

_"Honestly?" Tommy's eyebrows rose, "I don't know if I would. It's never happened to me... I couldn't say for sure if I'd tell you or not. How could I know how I'd handle something like that?"  
_

_"I think I'd tell you," Doug pouted.  
_

_Tommy frowned, "he didn't do that to you though, right?" he asked again. He reached over and put his hand on Doug's arm, "you're acting really weird."  
_

_"No," Doug insisted, "I just never even thought it was a possibility. It was never something I considered could happen... I was scared that he might have done something to you while I wasn't there. Over all the years, I was always looking out for signs that he was in a bad mood. I'd listen closely at night so I'd hear if he was throwing things around. I was always trying to protect you from him, but I never even looked out for that."  
_

_"I can only promise you he never did anything like that to me," Tommy assured him, "I don't think he'd do that. He punished us for doing things he thought were wrong. I think he was trying to fix us, not just torture us for fun. He wanted to change us into better people. He wasn't very good at it, but I don't think he usually did it just to be cruel."  
_

_Doug sighed, "yeah... I guess so," he breathed a sigh of relief and pulled Tommy into an embrace, "you ready to go then?" he asked.  
_

_Tommy nodded.  
_

_They walked out of the room and met back up with Judy. She had then taken them back out into the waiting room where Captain Fuller had been waiting. Instead of taking them somewhere scary and uninviting, he had invited them into his own home, for which Doug was very grateful.  
_

_...  
_

Doug wasn't sure what was going to happen next, and it terrified him. He looked over at Fuller, who was sitting in a nearby chair, "I don't really have much extra space," he apologized, "if you want, you two can share the bed, and I'll take the couch. Or someone could try to sleep on the chair. It reclines. If you don't want to share the bed, one of you can take the couch and the other can have the bed, or the chair... Whatever you feel comfortable with."

He looked over at Tommy waiting for his brother's input, "Let's stay in here," Tommy said quietly so that only Doug could hear him, "both of us."

"We'll stay in here," Doug told Fuller, "thanks."

"What's going to happen now?" Tommy asked in a strained voice. He looked so tired, so drained.

Fuller looked back at him, "we're going to try to find you someplace to live. I promised you that I'd make sure you find someplace safe, and until we find a place you are comfortable with, you're welcome to stay here."

"Really?" Doug asked, "that's pretty generous. What if we mess stuff up? Maybe living with us would be hell for you..."

Fuller laughed, "we'll deal with that if we come to it. For now, I have no problem with you boys staying here. You've been through a lot and deserve somewhere safe and comfortable to stay. My apartment may not seem like much, but it should be sufficient for the time being."

"Thanks," Doug muttered. He didn't really like charity to be directed at him, but he didn't want to let his own pride get in the way of his brother's safety. Tommy needed someone to take care of him, and Doug wondered if he would be enough for his little brother right now. Sleeping under a bridge didn't seem sufficient for him tonight.

"You have nothing to be ashamed of," Fuller spoke up. He must have sensed that Doug felt bad, "you were in a very serious, very awful situation. It's not always easy to know what to do when you're in a situation like that."

Doug frowned, looking over at Tommy who was snuggling down into the couch. He looked exhausted. Seeing his little brother looking so beaten down and tired made Doug feel even worse. He had a duty to protect the younger boy. He had been doing it for years. Ever since shortly after their mother died, Doug had tried his best to look after the little boy. But his best often wasn't good enough.

"I hope you're not mad at me," Tommy mumbled, half asleep.

Doug stared at him, "what?"

"For calling the police. I know we said we never would. I was just so scared for you. He was hurting you, and I didn't know what else to do. I couldn't help you any other way," Tommy had his eyes closed tightly as if he was thinking back. He had his legs pulled up on the couch so that he was curled into a small heap of his torso and limbs. He looked entirely fragile and tiny.

"You did the right thing," Fuller called over to him, "I'm sure you were terrified to call us, but you did anyway. It took a lot of bravery to do that."

Doug nodded, even though his brother couldn't see, "You made the right call, Tommy," he rephrased what Fuller had just said.

"I hope so," Tommy looked more relaxed now. Doug could tell his brother was falling asleep.

"Are you guys ready to go to bed? I could leave you alone if you want," Fuller offered, "feel free to help yourself to anything in the kitchen - anything that doesn't require cooking," he added, "I don't know how good you guys are with a stove... I don't want anyone cooking anything in the middle of the night."

"You don't have to leave yet," Doug said before he could even think. He didn't really feel like he could sleep right now. His brother was having no problem doing so, but Doug still felt too anxious, "could you stay up and talk to me for a little bit?" he asked.

"Sure," Fuller looked confused, but remained seated.

"I wanted to call the cops sooner," Doug frowned, "but Tommy convinced me not to. See, earlier this week, Tommy sold some of my dad's cigarettes," he started to explain, wondering why he was telling the man about this at all, "he did it at school, in front of a teacher, so the people in the office called our dad. Tommy knew dad would be furious. He didn't want to go home, and I sure as hell didn't want him to go home either... so we stayed out all night. We slept under a bridge. But we couldn't stay gone forever. We had to go home eventually."

Fuller kept silent, listening to him intently.

"We snuck in late so that maybe we could sleep there and then sneak out before he even knew we had come home at all," Doug explained, "but he found Tommy and wanted to punish him. You saw the chains up in the basement, right?"

"Yeah," Fuller nodded, looking hesitant. Maybe he didn't want to hear this. He was going to anyway though... Doug had started telling the story. He might as well finish. It wasn't often that he got the opportunity to talk to anyone about these things.

"Well, I woke up and heard their voices down in the basement. He had Tommy chained up and was hitting him with his belt," Doug frowned. He could feel tears in his eyes as he remembered this, "Tommy was only wearing boxers. His back was completely exposed. I think Dad hit him ten or eleven times, and some of them were bleeding. Tommy was actually crying when I found him. He doesn't normally do that. I got myself involved then... Dad hit me with the belt too, but not as many times, and I had on a shirt... I wanted to call the police or tell someone after that. I couldn't stand to see Tommy get hurt any more... But he didn't want me to say anything. It was because I had him convinced that we'd move out together as soon as I turned eighteen... And that's what my plan was... But I was stupid. I shouldn't have thought we could last another year. I should have said something sooner. We've been putting up with this since we were little kids. I should have put a stop to it years ago. It was my job to protect him, and I was too stupid to know how to do it."

"You were a child, Doug," Fuller looked at him with a hard stare, "you still are. You're not supposed to have to make decisions like that. You tried your best. How could you have known what was the right thing to do?"

He shrugged, "I don't know..." Doug frowned, "I just feel stupid for waiting this long. I could have gotten him out of there when he was five. That's when Dad hit him the first time. If I had told a teacher or something back then, we would have been out of there. But I let him stay ten more years. I let him suffer ten years longer than he had to."

"And how old were you when he was five?" Fuller asked.

"Seven," Doug responded, slumping his shoulders and looking down.

"Would you expect a seven year old to know what to do when he and his brother are being beaten by their father? Think about it. Pictures some random seven year old kid. Would you think he was an idiot for keeping that a secret?" Doug looked back up at the cop. Fuller looked angry as he continued, "you can't be upset with yourself for being a scared little boy. Even at the age you have reached now, you couldn't have known what was the right move to make. No one should have to decide what to do about being hurt every day at home. Home is a place you're supposed to feel safe. When you don't feel safe there anymore, it's hard to say what you should do."

Doug sighed, "I guess so," he looked over at Tommy as his little brother sunk down into the couch further, "I just can't believe it was Tommy who finally stepped up to the plate and did something. There were so many times I wanted to save him from this, but I never did. It was him who finally saved me."

"And you should be proud of him," Fuller informed him, "but you shouldn't be ashamed of yourself. I'm sure you've protected him lots of times, in whatever ways you could think of."

Doug nodded, "yeah. I always tried to make sure Dad didn't hurt him. It just didn't usually do any good..."

"It's in the past," Fuller looked at him, "you did what you could. He's probably more grateful to you than you could ever know."

Doug looked back over at Tommy, who was lying down even more now, taking up half the couch. He hoped his little brother didn't feel too let down by him.

"I'll get you some pillows and blankets," Fuller stood up and left the room, returning a few moments later with the items he'd promised.

"Thanks," Doug smiled as he took them.

"You tired yet?" Fuller asked, "I'll stay up as late as you do. It's no problem. I don't want to keep you up if you're tired though."

Doug shook his head, "you can go to bed. I'll never fall asleep if I stay up talking anyway. I'll try to go to bed. Don't know if I'll be successful, but I'll try at least..."

Fuller put his hand on Doug's shoulder and squeezed lightly, "you're both good kids," he assured him, "you handled this situation better than some. Everything's going to be okay for both of you. I'll personally make sure of it."

"Thanks," Doug smiled up at him. He really was a nice guy. Most cops he'd dealt with seemed to hate him. Fuller was actually giving him a second chance. He saw the brothers as boys who got screwed over in life and not just as screw ups who should be thrown in jail and forgotten. He wanted to help them turn things around in their lives, "we both really appreciate you helping us out," Doug told him, "Tommy might not act grateful, but he is. He's pretty defensive, but it's usually just because he's scared to let his guard down."

Fuller nodded, "I know," he smiled, "I'll see you two tomorrow morning. Try to get some sleep. He turned and walked toward his bedroom.

"Good night," Doug called after him.

"Good night, Doug," Fuller called back, walking into his bedroom and closing the door.

Doug sighed and looked over at his brother yet again. He looked so comfortable. Doug took one of the blankets and draped it over his brother's frame. He then took a pillow and walked over to Tommy's head, lifting him up slowly and very carefully so as to not wake him. He slipped the pillow under his brother's head and then stepped back. The boy was still asleep. Doug smiled.

He didn't go to the chair as Fuller had suggested. Instead he sat down next to his brother, putting the second pillow over his brother's legs and laying his head down on it lightly. He reached up and found his brother's uninjured arm, grabbing onto his smaller hand with his own larger one. He felt Tommy's fingers tightening around his.

Doug was taller than his little brother and therefore couldn't curl up into as tiny of a ball as he could. In fact, Doug's legs were draped over the armrest of the couch. He didn't mind though. He felt content being so near his Tommy.

The younger boy shifted a bit under him, making a small sleepy noise. Doug looked at him. He still appeared to be asleep. Doug hoped his dreams were pleasant. He wasn't smiling or frowning. Maybe he wasn't dreaming about anything at the moment.

For the first time in a long time... Maybe since before he could remember, Doug actually felt safe, and he actually felt he didn't have to worry about anyone hurting his brother. Fuller wouldn't do anything bad to them. Doug was fairly certain of that. They were sleeping in a building where no one was a threat, not under the bridge with a homeless thief. Not among drug dealers and drunks. Not under the same roof as a man who seemed to delight in hurting them for terrible reasons, if he even had any reasons at all. Doug could sleep soundly, knowing no one was going to wake him up by slapping him - knowing he wouldn't awake to the sound of things being slammed around or to his brother's defiant arguing with their father.

They still had a long road ahead of them, and it might not be easy. Finding a place to live wasn't something he had thought he'd be doing so soon. They might have to live with people they hadn't met yet. Things would be weird for a while, but they still had each other, and they always would. Everything was going to be alright.

He squeezed Tommy's hand lightly, "I'm proud of you, little brother," he whispered.

"I'm," he heard Tommy's small, voice. He paused for a second, "proud of you," he paused again, "Doug," he was talking in his sleep, "love you," he mumbled.

Doug smiled, "I love you too, Tommy."

**_xxxxxx_**

**_This was originally the final chapter, and I still feel it works well as a final chapter. I did, however, write an additional two chapters which will be published shortly. You might feel they aren't necessary... Maybe they are just a bit extra... I like them. Maybe you will too._**


	15. Chapter 15

_**As you know, the story could have been called over at the end of previous chapter. Since I wasn't ready to let go of the story yet, I added one last little adventure here at the end, which will be comprised of these last two chapters. I hope you enjoy them:**_

_**xxxxxx**_

Chapter15

When Tommy woke up, he didn't quite know where he was for a moment. But as soon as he looked around the unfamiliar room, he remembered the previous night's events perfectly, and immediately recalled where he was. He was in Captain Fuller's apartment, lying on his couch. When he tried to shift his body, he found that he couldn't do so right away. Something was weighing down his legs.

Looking down, he saw the source of the pressure on his legs. On top of those limbs was a pillow, as well as his brother's head. Tommy looked across the room at the empty chair. Why hadn't Doug just slept there? He didn't really mind though. Having Doug nearby made him feel safe. And maybe Doug felt safer near Tommy as well; if his brother wanted to sleep on his legs, that was just fine.

Tommy could hear running water in the other room. The police captain was probably taking a shower. It was Saturday, so the brothers weren't expected to go to school, but the cop might have to go to work.

Pulling himself up with his unbroken arm, Tommy sat with his legs folded on the couch and pulled his brother up so that the pillow and his head were cradled in Tommy's lap. He looked down at Doug, who remained sleeping through all this. He looked peaceful and smiled very slightly as Tommy traced his fingers softly over a bruise on his cheek.

"Morning," Tommy jumped at the sound of Fuller's voice.

"Hey," Tommy looked over at him.

"Sleep well?" Fuller asked as he shrugged into a professional looking jacket.

Tommy shrugged, "I guess so."

"Well, I gotta go to work," Fuller told him, "I'm going to give you boys a key. I'm hoping I can trust you to stay at the house alone. I certainly want to, and until you give me a reason not to, I'm going to keep trusting you. There's some food in the fridge you can help yourselves to."

Tommy looked at him with wide eyes as he walked over and handed him the house key. Why should this guy trust them? No one else did. They bought and sold drugs and weren't really at all reliable. They hardly ever even showed up to the class this man had been subbing for. Sure, he wasn't a real teacher, but he still expected them to show up, and they didn't. What was there to trust about any that? And this guy was a cop... He should know better.

"Your arm feel okay?" Fuller asked, looking worried.

"Yeah," Tommy looked down at it, "it's a little sore, but it'll be okay. I've had worse."

Fuller frowned sympathetically, "do you guys need anything before I go?"

Tommy shook his head, "no."

"Okay," Fuller reached down and squeezed Tommy's shoulder lightly, "keep the door locked, whether you're home or not," he instructed, "and remember to call me if you need anything. I've left my work number by the phone. It's the same one I gave you before, but I'm not sure if you still have it."

"I still have it," Tommy told him. He knew the crumpled business card was still in his pants pocket. He had stuffed it there last night, for some reason unknown to him.

"Okay then," Fuller nodded, "well, It's by the phone too if you end up losing the card. The shower's right in there if you need it," he pointed toward the bathroom, "I guess we could go by your house and get you some of your clothing after I'm done with work."

"Is our dad there?" Tommy wondered.

"No," Fuller answered, "but I don't think you should be going there on your own. The three of us can stop by together after work."

"Okay," Tommy nodded.

"Alright," Fuller looked at him for a moment, "be good. I'll see you guys in a little bit."

"Bye," Tommy called after him.

The sound of the front door closing woke up Doug, who seemed just as confused as Tommy had felt when he had first woken up a little while before.

"Hey," Doug smiled up at Tommy and then pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Hi," Tommy smiled. He raised up the key Fuller had given him, "look what I got," Doug just looked confused, so Tommy explained, "key to the house."

Doug frowned, "where's Fuller?" he asked, looking around the room, "does he know you took that?"

Tommy nodded, "yeah. He went to work. He gave it to me. Said he'd trust us until we gave him a reason not to."

"Okay," Doug looked satisfied by his answer.

"Doug," Tommy started, "He said we'd all go over to our house after he gets back to work... you know, to pick stuff up, like clothes and stuff... But I think we should go over there and get some stuff before he's got a chance. Like our marijuana stash and some money."

Doug nodded, "okay," he agreed, "you ready to go right now?"

"Yeah," Tommy answered.

...

Walking to their house had taken a lot longer than driving would have, but it wasn't a difficult walk. It was actually pretty nice. The weather was mild and it was also pleasant to know they weren't going to be yelled at or hit when they got there.

As Tommy had expected would be the case, the front door had been locked. But that was no problem at all. He knew his bedroom window would be unlocked, because he always left it that way and he was certain none of the cops would have thought to check something like that. So he and Doug crawled up the same tree they would climb whenever they were sneaking in or out of the house and made their way in through his bedroom window.

They immediately pocketed what little cash Tommy had in his dresser, but found that, unfortunately, Tommy didn't have any drugs left. He sighed loudly, "Judy must have told them we kept drugs up here. What are we gonna do to make money now?"

The two brothers just looked at each other for a moment. Doug hesitated and then finally offered a suggestion, "What about Richard?"

Tommy nodded, narrowing his eyes as he contemplated that option. Richard was a guy who they sold drugs for a few times in the past. They preferred to stay out of business with Richard if they could avoid it, because the man was a lot more serious about his trade than Karl was. When dealing with this man, there was no room for error.

"Let's call him," Tommy agreed. After all, they had to make money somehow...

...

"Remember, Tommy," Doug whispered in a hushed tone as the two of them walked up the steps that led to Richard's apartment. Or someone's apartment at least. They were fairly certain it wasn't really Richard's house. He probably wouldn't have directed Tommy and Doug to his real house. Not with his line of work, "don't argue with this guy. Let's just get in and out as quick as we can. He said on the phone that he was going to have other people over doing business, so it's probably best if you don't even talk to them either unless they say something first."

"I know," Tommy sighed. Sometimes his brother treated him like he thought the younger boy was an idiot.

"Okay," Doug didn't argue any further. He knocked on the door and waited.

"McQuaids?" a man opened the door a crack and peeked out.

"Yeah," Doug responded.

Without saying anything more, the man pulled the door open the rest of the way and gestured for them to come inside.

Tommy nodded and smiled at him as they walked in. This man wasn't Richard. He didn't know who the guy was and wasn't going to ask. It didn't matter.

"Doug and Tommy, right?" Richard greeted them as they walked into a room with a few chairs and a coffee table, "we've done business before?"

Tommy nodded while Doug answered, "yeah. A few times, a long time ago."

Richard narrowed his eyes, "yeah... I think I remember you two. Couple years ago you kids came in here looking for marijuana. Karl referred you to me, right?"

"Yeah," Doug nodded.

"Well," Richard smiled, "you boys have certainly grown. Tommy actually looks like a teenager now instead of a little boy," he stepped forward and ruffled Tommy's hair.

Tommy flinched back. He was going to say something snide, but decided it would be better to keep his mouth shut. The last thing they needed was to make an enemy out of this man.

"So what are you boys wanting to sell for me?" he asked, "weed again? Or something that'll make you and me both more money?" he grinned widely again. Tommy had a feeling this guy probably made quick friends very easily with people who had no idea what sort of work he was into. He was superficially very charming.

Doug hesitated, while Tommy said nothing. He decided Doug was better suited to lead this deal. If Tommy let himself start talking during this, he'd probably end up saying something he shouldn't and it would mess up everything.

"How about this," Richard offered, opening a drawer under the coffee table and pulling out a zip lock bag. It was full of smaller bags which were each filled with small amounts of cocaine, "I'll be expecting fifty dollars back for each gram," he explained, "and the rest is up to you. Set the price at a hundred and you'll get to keep fifty. Don't know how successful your business would be with that price, but whatever profit you can manage, you keep."

Tommy frowned. Getting someone to pay over fifty wasn't going to be easy, "how about we give you back forty for each?" he offered.

Doug elbowed him in the side, but didn't say anything.

Richard laughed, "this isn't a negotiation, kid. Take it or leave it. I'm sure there's lots of kids who would be happy to do such an easy job for that much profit. You could easily make fifteen dollars each gram if you sell to the right people. You're selling it at a high school. Just go up to some rich rebellious kids. They'll want to snort up anything they can get their hands on and won't know what it's worth."

Tommy stared at Richard who just smiled back at him. No one ever seemed to take him seriously outside of students at school. It was easy to make teenagers scared of him, but it was a different story entirely with adults. Tommy looked over to Doug, wondering if his brother had anything to say about this.

"Whatever," Richard shrugged, "Karl will sell it if you won't."

Tommy shook his head, "Karl got arrested last night," he informed the man, "otherwise we wouldn't be here. We're only here because our regular supplier, Karl, is in jail."

"Shut up," Doug hissed, grabbing Tommy's uninjured arm and squeezing it. He must have thought Tommy was giving away information that was none of this guy's business. Tommy wasn't sure what he had said wrong, but he complied with Doug's request and kept his mouth shut. For now at least. Doug pulled Tommy back and looked at Richard, "we'll sell it for you."

"Karl's on his way over here right now," Richard raised his eyebrows, ignoring Doug and looking toward Tommy, "I was on the phone with him less than an hour ago. If he was in jail, I'm sure he would have told me..."

Tommy turned his head toward his older brother. The cops had made such a big deal about Karl being a huge problem at their school. Why would they just let him go as soon as they found him? Doug's confusion mirror's Tommy's.

Their attention was stolen by a knock at the door. The man who had let Tommy and Doug in walked over to the door while Doug and Tommy looked back toward Richard.

"That's probably him now," Richard grinned, "you want this stuff or not?" he asked, turning his focus back to Doug, "if it's gonna be too hard for you to sell, just say so now. You're playing with the big boys," he raised his eyebrows as he glanced back at Tommy.

"Hey man!" Tommy heard the door open behind him, "got some kids here sayin you were arrested last night. Must not have had too much evidence on ya, huh?"

The guys were laughing, but Karl's laugh sounded a little forced.

"This your girlfriend?" the door man asked.

Tommy turned around and looked at them. He promptly turned back around, grabbing Doug's arm, "we gotta go," he insisted as he leaned in closer to Doug. He pulled on Doug's arm, "come on."

Richard just laughed, "maybe come back when you're older," he suggested.

Tommy ignored his taunting and pulled his brother along. He hid his own face as best as he could as he shrugged passed the people crowded around the doorway, but he wasn't totally successful in keeping his identity a secret, and he was sure Doug hadn't been either, since Tommy didn't have time to explain his reasoning to his brother.

Karl's 'girlfriend' was not his girlfriend at all. It was Officer Hoffs.

"Fucking perfect!" Tommy yelled as he and Doug reached the bottom of the stairs that led out of the apartment. There were probably other cops surveying the area. They needed to get out of there as quickly as they could.

As they ran along, they stuck to alley ways. Tommy frequently glanced behind them and noticed Doug was doing the same. After a while, it seemed no one was following them, so they slowed their pace and made their way toward the bridge they had camped under earlier that week.

"She saw us, Doug," Tommy sighed as they walked under the bridge, "that means she'll tell Fuller that we were there. God damn it! How could we be so stupid?"

"We didn't know she'd be there," Doug tried to calm his brother, "she's like a fucking ninja... She's everywhere."

"Just think about it, Doug," Tommy hissed, glaring up at his older brother, "they are looking for the drug suppliers. They found us, and then they found Karl who was supplying us with drugs. Where would they go next? To the guy who's supplying Karl... Where else? Why the fuck didn't we think of that? Am I a fucking idiot?"

"Calm down," Doug gripped Tommy's shoulders and looked down into his eyes, "we'll be okay. We didn't buy anything. What could we get in trouble for?"

"But she knows why we were there. And Fuller's going to know. He said he'd trust us as long as he didn't have a reason not to," Tommy was feeling panicked. He was breathing in and out faster than he'd have preferred, "what's he going to do when he finds out? He's not going to let us stay with him. Why would he? I'm surprised he ever let us in the first place!"

"We don't need him anyway," Doug gripped his shoulders tighter, "what's the worst that could happen, really? They send us to some foster home? We'll just leave. Fuck. We aren't little kids."

Tommy reached up with his free hand and wrapped his fingers around Doug's wrist, "whatever happens, just don't let us get separated. Okay?"

Doug nodded, "that's been my promise for years now. You don't even have to ask."

_**xxxxxx**_

_**Please continue reviewing if you're still here reading this. :) I'd still love to know what you think... There's just one more chapter to go now...**_


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter16

Doug sighed as he sat under the bridge, against the wall that held it up. His arm was wrapped around his little brother's shoulders as they both sat in silence. Leaned up against Doug's shoulder, Tommy shifted his body slightly so that his hair was tickling Doug's neck and jaw. They had been there for a few hours, and had remained silent for most of that time. Neither of them was sure what they should do next.

"We can't stay down here forever," Doug informed Tommy.

"I know," Tommy's voice was soft. It still sounded a bit scratchy, which made Doug's heart ache. He still could hardly believe their father had actually choked his own son. Sure, Tommy liked to talk back and didn't seem to know when to shut up... And he had gotten into a physical fight with his father when it would have been much smarter not to. But Mr. McQuaid didn't need to restrict Tommy's breathing to win a fight against the kid. The fight was already unevenly matched.

"We could go back to the house," Doug suggested, "I know they'll find us there... but at least we could sleep or something before we get taken away. Someone's going to find us eventually, so we might as well go someplace more comfortable."

Tommy frowned, "Isn't there anywhere else? There could be cops there right now. Maybe they think we bought drugs from Richard. Maybe they're waiting to arrest us. They'd probably expect us to go back there. Fuller's gonna be really mad."

Doug stared at him. Tommy looked so apprehensive. His eyebrows were knitted together and he was pouting. Doug frowned as well as he asked, "why do you care so much what Fuller thinks anyway? We didn't expect him to let us live in his house in the first place... It'll just be like he never offered that option to begin with."

Tommy looked down, but didn't offer an answer.

"It's gonna be fine. If he can't forgive us, it's his loss. He can't expect us to change overnight," Doug consoled his brother.

Tommy nodded, "I just don't want to hear him yell at us, and say how disappointed he is and everything. He said all this about how he trusted us. I knew he shouldn't trust us, and I knew he'd find that out eventually... But it didn't take long, did it? And now he's gonna try to make us feel bad."

"Do you feel bad?" Doug wondered. Maybe that's why Tommy seemed so upset. Maybe he actually felt guilty for letting the man down. Fuller had saved them last night, after all. If Tommy hadn't called him, what would have happened? Doug shuddered to think how the night may have played out. Tommy wouldn't have just left their father to finish hitting Doug. He would have fought with him, and would have probably ended up so much more hurt than he was right now. Would Tommy have even made it to the hospital to fix up his arm by now? Probably not... The boy's arm may have gone untreated for days if Fuller hadn't given them his phone number, and if Tommy hadn't called it. If not for Fuller, maybe Doug and Tommy would still be locked up down in the basement, just waiting for their father to decide they'd learned their lesson. Maybe Doug and Tommy owed this guy... Maybe they really should feel bad...

Tommy shrugged, "I don't know. We have to make money somehow," he started, "and he never told us _not_ to sell more drugs..."

"I think he actually might have," Doug laughed, "I don't remember his exact words, but I'm pretty sure it came up at some point... Maybe after we were arrested for trying to sell Judy cocaine..."

Looking quite miserable, Tommy sighed and leaned his head back against the bricks, "well then, he's definitely going to be pissed."

"Well, he'll just have to deal with it," Doug frowned, "there's nothing we can do about it now."

"Deal with what?" Doug looked up as he heard Fuller's voice. The man was walking toward them. He seemed to be alone.

Doug felt Tommy scrambling to his feet next to him and decided he should stand too, "how did you know where we were?" Doug wondered, narrowing his eyes skeptically.

"You mentioned a bridge last night," Fuller shrugged his shoulders, "I checked all of them."

"What do you want?" Tommy cut in, "shouldn't you be at work or something?"

"Officer Hoffs said she saw you two today," Fuller started, ignoring Tommy's question.

"So what?" Tommy frowned. His tone was defensive, but his hand still gripped Doug's sleeve tightly. Doug wondered if his brother realized he was still holding onto him or if he was doing it inadvertently out of nervousness.

Fuller took a step closer, "I don't expect you two to be perfect," he explained, "but I expect you to start learning from your mistakes. You have no reason to be buying or selling drugs. Can you at least explain to me what you were doing? You wake up in the morning and the first thing you do is find a drug dealer? Are you addicted to it? Did you need a fix?" his voice was raising in volume, "I just don't understand why you feel you need to keep doing this."

"No!" Tommy's voice was raising too, as much as he could manage considering it was still scratchy and strained, "we're not drug addicts. We needed money. I wouldn't expect you to understand that. You've probably had money your whole life."

"You're right," Fuller's voice was still raised, "I don't quite understand what you two are going through. I never had to sell drugs when I was in high school. But now you don't either. I offered you a roof over your heads and food, electricity, running water... I offered to take you back to your house to pick up clothing... What exactly do you need money for? What is it that you don't have, that you need so desperately you'll sell drugs to get it?"

"We're not staying with you forever," Doug cut in, trying to give his brother's voice a break, while also trying to prevent the conversation from becoming any louder. He made sure to keep his own voice calm and relatively quiet. Listening to the cop and his little brother yell back and forth wasn't something he cared to spend his time doing.

"You don't need to worry about that. Wherever you end up, you'll have enough money. I'm not going to just stick you with the first people who will take you," Fuller's voice was lowering just as Doug had hoped it would.

"So what do we do now then?" Tommy still sounded angry, but Doug was pretty sure he was just being overly defensive. Fuller wasn't actually being that harsh. He seemed like he wanted to straighten this all out instead of just kicking them to the curb.

"You guys hungry?" Fuller asked.

"What?" Tommy's shoulders slumped.

"We could go have lunch," the cop suggested, "we'll forget about all this for a little bit."

Doug smiled, "Yeah," he agreed, "I'm always hungry."

"Wait," Tommy objected, pulling Doug's arm back as the older boy stepped slightly toward Fuller, "and then what? Is this your way of trying to make yourself feel better about kicking us out? You gonna just buy us lunch and then send us off with some social worker?"

"No," Fuller shrugged, "I'll take you back to the house. Unless you want to keep living under this bridge. I'll forgive your mistakes as long as you don't keep making the same ones over and over again."

Doug looked over at Tommy. The younger boy looked so skeptical, "come on, man," Doug clapped his shoulder, "it'll be fine."

Fuller took a step forward and reached out toward him, but Tommy took a step back so that he was halfway behind Doug. Tommy's hand was on Doug's arm, and Doug could feel his brother's fingers trembling so slightly.

He turned around and looked down at his brother. Tommy's eyes were wide. Doug looked back at Fuller, "can we have a minute?" he asked.

Fuller nodded. He looked concerned and like he wanted to say something, but he kept his mouth shut.

Doug led Tommy a few paces away and leaned down so that he was close enough to whisper. Even though Fuller was nearby, he couldn't hear them, "he's not going to hurt you," Doug assured Tommy in a hushed tone.

"I know," Tommy whispered back, but Doug wasn't so sure he was really that confident. His eyes were still wide and he looked very hesitant.

"He's not like Dad," Doug promised, "why would he have worked so hard to get us out of there if he was just going to do the same things dad did?"

Tommy scowled, "I know that."

Doug laughed tiredly, "okay then... So what's the problem?"

"Why isn't he pissed?" Tommy's shoulders slumped, almost like he was disappointed.

"Maybe he understands why we did it," Doug offered. He wasn't really that sure why Fuller wasn't more angry either.

"Maybe he's just trying to get us to come with him so he can yell at us later," Tommy frowned.

"Could be," Doug raised his eyebrows and shrugged, "maybe we should just go with him and see how it plays out. What's the worst that could happen? At least we'll get a free lunch."

Tommy narrowed his eyes, "okay," he finally agreed.

...

Stepping out of the bathroom and into the living room, Tommy looked at Doug who was sitting on the couch talking to Fuller, who sat in the chair opposite the couch. He didn't know what they were talking about and went ahead and took the liberty of interrupting them, "shower's all yours, Doug," he informed his brother.

"Thanks Tommy," he smiled, "Be right back," Doug nodded at Fuller as he stood and took Tommy's place in the bathroom.

Tommy sat down where Doug had been. He brought his legs up onto the couch, crossing them so that his feet were under his thighs. He then crossed his arms over his chest as best as his cast would allow, leaned back, and stared at Fuller.

Fuller stared back at him. He seemed like he was waiting for Tommy to say something. But Tommy wasn't interested in playing that game. He wasn't speaking until the cop did first. If Fuller had nothing to say, then neither did Tommy.

"Do you understand why you shouldn't be buying and selling drugs, Tommy?" Fuller finally gave in and spoke first, crossing his arms over his chest in a way that mirrored Tommy's posture.

Raising his eyebrows, Tommy sighed, "yeah."

"Will you explain it in your own words?" Fuller requested.

Tommy rolled his eyes, "whatever," he agreed, "you don't want us doing drugs because it's not healthy. You don't want us selling them because it'll be unhealthy for whoever buys them."

Fuller nodded, "true. But it's more than just that," he added, "the kind of people you're dealing with aren't the sort of people high school kids should be hanging around. You realize that man is just using kids like you. He has you do all his work, and he takes most of the profit. He's putting you at risk of being arrested, or robbed, or taken advantage of, while he sits away in hiding and rakes in all the income from it."

"Well, isn't that what lots of people do?" Tommy frowned, "Just think of anyone who's someone's boss. They make their underlings do all the work for only a fraction of the money the boss gets. You should understand that. Right, Coach? You're the police captain. You assign all the work to the regular cops, so they're out in the field, in danger, while you just order them around and get paid more than they do. What's the difference?"

"I don't put my officers in danger," Fuller frowned, "Not when I can avoid it. And if I sense they are in any danger, I get them out of wherever their assignment is as soon as possible. I don't know if you remember, but I was working at your school just the same as I had my officers doing. They were students, because they're young enough to pull it off; I was a teacher, because I can't pull off being eighteen anymore. Whenever I'm needed on an assignment, I'm there."

"But you still get paid more for less work," Tommy scowled.

"Being someone's boss is not the same as being a drug dealer who uses kids as mules," Fuller sounded angry. Tommy hoped this man's fuse was longer than his father's, "the job I do can get a lot more complicated than the jobs my officers do."

"Okay. I won't buy anymore drugs," Tommy sighed. He didn't really know much about what all the captain's job consisted of and didn't want to argue about it anymore, "I couldn't anyway by drugs off him even if I wanted to. I'm sure you and Judy arrested him. And I didn't like him much anyway."

"You can't be buying them off anyone," Fuller ordered, "you've got to promise me you won't be doing things like that. I can offer you a safe place to come home to. You don't need to worry about money or making sure you and your brother are safe. I've got that covered. All you need to do is go to school, do your homework, and just be a kid."

"I'll do my best to try to be normal," Tommy felt his lower lip quiver. He really didn't want to sell drugs. They had done it because they had needed money for various things. It they didn't have to do it anymore, that sounded pretty good to him. They hadn't really sampled the drugs they sold very much. Tommy had tried cocaine, but wasn't addicted to it. And he smoked weed sometimes, but that wasn't addicting. They had no addiction to quench. But getting into the habit of being a normal person when he never had been before wasn't going to be easy, "I can't just become perfect overnight."

"And I don't expect you to," Fuller's expression and voice softened.

"I'm probably never going to be completely right," Tom frowned.

"No one is," the cop shrugged, "all you can do is try your best. Make your mistakes, and learn from them. Everyone is entitled to infinite mistakes. Just make sure each one is different and that you take something away from it."

"Do we get to keep the house key?" Tommy wondered, "I mean... you probably don't trust us anymore, but can we still stay here if you're not home."

"I still trust you, Tommy," Fuller stared at him, "what you did today wasn't an attack against me. It was against yourselves. And like I said, if you're learning from your mistakes, I won't have to worry about you two doing something like that again. I've said this before, but I'll say it again. I think you and your brother are good kids. You just haven't ever really had anyone guiding you in the right direction."

Tommy sighed loudly, "man... If you're gonna let us stay here very long, you better hope you got a lot of patience."

Fuller laughed, "I might not always seem patient, but I think I can handle you two."

"We'll see," Tommy raised his eyebrow.

"And Tommy," Fuller added, looking at him seriously again, "you don't ever have to be afraid of me. You may receive some sort of punishment if you do something wrong, but it will never be something you have to actually fear. No matter what you do wrong, the consequence will never, _ever_ be physical pain."

"Good," Tommy narrowed his eyes, "because you're no match for Doug and me."

Fuller stared at him for a moment. He almost looked offended, like the boy had made the most horrible joke ever uttered, but then he smiled, "you're tough kids," he agreed.

"I know," Tommy grinned.

At this point Doug walked back in, still drying his hair with a towel. He plopped himself down next to Tommy, "you guys friends again yet?" he asked.

Fuller raised his eyebrows and looked to Tommy to answer that one.

Tommy nodded, "I think we just might be able to work something out."

...

...

...

The only light in the room came from the faint glow of the television. Fuller had the volume turned down so that it was almost completely silent. He had so much to think about, just like he always did. His job was not one to be taken lightly. It was important, so it often lead to too much thinking, to headaches, and to him feeling quite overwhelmed.

The more time he spent with the McQuaid brothers, the more he didn't want to send them off. While he was certain he could find them a suitable home eventually, he knew no matter where they went it would be difficult. People didn't often want to adopt or foster children who were already teenagers. And many of those who did weren't suitable parents. There existed a lot of corruption in the foster home system. People often took in children just for the money they'd receive and would spent as little of that money on the kids as possible. Others were abusive and just wanted someone smaller and weaker than them to pick on. Some would even take them in trying to be nice but just wouldn't be able to handle them.

Fuller didn't want to send the boys to anyone who wouldn't love them. They deserved loving parents. Apparently their mother had died when they were quite young, and ever since then, they hadn't had any positive parental figure.

He glanced over at the couch. For the second night in a row, the two boys had decided to sleep on the couch together, even though there was a chair one of them could have used. The cop wondered if they didn't trust him. Were they so scared of people that they couldn't even sleep apart from each other? Or were they just more comfortable being close together? The captain certainly hoped they weren't scared of him.

Fuller wondered how the boys would feel about the possibility of staying with him long-term. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea, but the sight of them just broke his heart. He could see in both of them how much they cared about each other. It was also apparent that they were both nervous about their uncertain future. If Fuller went ahead and tried to find them a foster home, they would probably end up moving around a lot. Until they were old enough to move out on their own, they would probably not have a place they really felt was home. Fuller had a spare room in his apartment. It was full of boxes, but he could move them to his closet and under his bed. He could make space for the boys if they would accept the offer.

But could he handle these boys long term? He understood how Tommy and Doug got into bad habits of skipping class, getting into fights, buying and selling drugs, and everything else. He knew their life style was created by having an unsatisfactory home life. Even though they were working on fixing their living situation, that didn't mean they would turn into straight-A students and make friends with all of their classmates on Monday. Old habits die hard; Fuller would have his work cut out for him if he took these kids in.

He looked over at them again. They were both sleeping quite peacefully. Doug was leaned back against a pillow that was propped up against one of the couch's arm rests. Tommy lay partially on top of him, against a second pillow that was lying on Doug's legs. The younger boy was lying so that Fuller could see his face. The boy's hair fell forward over his forehead and would have been in his eyes if they were open. The cop wondered why teenagers wore their hair like that, falling into their eyes... It didn't look comfortable to him. He looked over at Doug. His hair was even longer than his brother's in some places, but it didn't hang in his eyes so much. The older boy was smiling slightly as he slept.

Fuller felt a smile forming on his own face as well. He knew both of these kids were good people. He also knew both of them would give him so much trouble if he let them stay with him. But when he looked at them, he felt like he might not mind the trouble they'd cause if it meant he could really help them. Maybe he'd just take his time in finding them a foster home... and maybe if it took long enough, could forget about finding them a foster home at all. They had a potential home right here, with a man who would make sure to treat them right. Fuller always checked in on the kids he helped find foster homes for... If he _was_ the foster father of these boys, he wouldn't have to bother checking in on himself...

He had already raised one son and sent him off to university. It had been challenging, but well worth it. These boys might end up being a bigger challenge (of course they would) and there were two of them instead of one... But he had taken on the job of police captain to help people, and he had a huge opportunity to help two people who really needed it. It wasn't even just something he felt obligated to do. He wanted to keep these boys close, to make sure they were given the same opportunities in life as all kids deserved to have.

Right now he really felt like he wanted to invite them to stay at his home until they were ready to live on their own. Sometime within the next few days, he could ask them what they thought of this idea. It was, of course, a rather rash decision on his part, but he had lots of time to sleep on it.

Fuller stood up and turned off the television. Before he went to his room, he glanced over at the brothers one last time. If they accepted his proposal to stay here, Fuller would have a long road ahead of him... He knew if they stayed with him long term, they were bound to sometimes make his life hell. But they certainly looked manageable now...

**_xxxxxx_**

**_Okay then. The End._**

**_(I just recently added that last bit from Fuller's perspective... And when I was writing it I sort of felt like I was writing an essay about giving underprivileged kids a second chance... Hopefully it's not too boring, but it's meant to imply that Fuller is probably going to adopt them. Isn't that nice? ^_^)  
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**_So I hope you guys liked the story as a whole. It was very fun to write, and your reviews made me very happy throughout the time I spent posting chapters, proof-reading, editing, and posting more chapters. This was my 40th story, which is cool, since it's a nice round number. I'm glad people seemed to like it. :) If I think of more 21 Jump Street ideas, I'll definitely be writing them up as well.  
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**_It's possible I could write a story about Doug and Tommy McQuaid living with Fuller while still going to school and all that. You and I both know they won't adapt perfectly right away, so there would still be issues for them to work out. I wouldn't want to include anything about court or the adoption process though... I realize Fuller would probably not really be allowed to adopt them, since he's a single man and works all the time... But it's just a fanfiction. Only about six people will ever read it...  
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**_At any rate, thanks for sticking around til the end. You guys are all wonderful. You may be hearing from me again...  
_**


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